


BAKER'S DAUGHTER

by BellaGracie



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Peeta's daughter - Freeform, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 26,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5815798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellaGracie/pseuds/BellaGracie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a new world, the Rebellion was successful, and Peeta's daughter has some questions about a mysterious huntress in the woods.</p><p>I've been adding to this story, bit by bit. Taking my time. The beginning was heartbreaking but this is EVERLARK. Always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to continue this story, which I started about two years ago.
> 
> I love these characters so much, it seems I can never let them go.

This was THE BAKER'S DAUGHTER. Added a co-author, Cielo. She didn't have time to work on it anymore and said to drop her as co-author. And because I didn't know how to do it and was messing around with the dashboard, I deleted MYSELF as co-author. Decided to re-post as a new, original work, chapter by chapter.

Probably four chapters, total.

It's Panem, but after the Overthrow of Snow. 

Peeta is a baker, one of the leaders of the rebellion. He married his sweetheart, Rose.

Katniss was a prisoner of Snow during the Rebellion. She fell in love with Peeta, but doesn't tell him.

Daisy is Peeta and Rose's child.


	2. DAISY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boy Daisy liked was blonde and blue-eyed, like herself. He was a Cartwright and his mother had been her father's oldest friend. She stared at him during recess, but couldn't think of a single reason to speak to him.
> 
> She felt a painful pinch on her elbow. It was that mean Seam girl again. Seam girls were horrible. They had a smell. Like dust. No, worse. Daisy wrinkled her nose.
> 
> "Owww!" she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very AU.
> 
> Peeta was the leader of the rebel forces that defeated Snow and freed his prize captive, a huntress named Katniss Everdeen. She's known as the Mockingjay; she inspired the rebellion.
> 
> She fell in love with Peeta, but Peeta was already betrothed to someone named Rose, and he chose not to break his vow to Rose.
> 
> So, this is the story about what happens. After.

“Dad, who’s the Mockingjay?”

Her father’s jaw tensed. He was silent. Maybe he hadn’t heard.

She repeated her question, louder this time.

He looked at her, an expression of – well, she wasn’t sure how to describe the look on his face at that moment. She had never seen her father with that expression, ever.

Before her father could answer, her mother rushed into the room. “Daisy!” she cried. “Hurry up! I have to get you to school!”

Daisy hastily spooned the last of her oatmeal into her mouth. Her father picked up her empty bowl and began walking with it to the sink. As he passed his wife, she stayed him with an arm around his waist. He looked questioningly at her and his wife met his gaze with a lingering kiss.

Daisy watched this scene impatiently. The question her father hadn’t answered remained in her thoughts all day.

* * * * *

The boy Daisy liked was blonde and blue-eyed, like herself. He was a Cartwright and his mother had been her father’s oldest friend.

She stared at him during recess, but couldn’t think of a single reason to speak to him. She felt a painful pinch on her elbow. It was that mean Seam girl again. Seam girls were horrible. They had a smell. Like dust. No, worse. Daisy wrinkled her nose.

“Owww!” she said.

“Oooh, little Daisy’s gonna cry!” the girl said.

Daisy stuck her tongue out at her.

The Seam girl laughed. Just then, Daisy remembered something. She’d heard from a cousin that the woman out in the woods was from the Seam. She had dark hair and silver eyes. She was a huntress; everywhere she went, she carried a bow and arrow. But this woman was more than a huntress: she was the spark that led to a rebellion.

She had been the daughter of a miner. Her father was killed in a mine explosion, her mother had given up and couldn't care for her children, so the girl went to the woods to hunt. She was caught and taken to the Capitol. She spent many months in a prison being tortured. But eventually, a good kind baker had freed her. And she’d given her heart to him. But his heart was already promised to another. A woman named . . . Rose. Just like Daisy’s mother.

* * * * *

That Sunday, early, before her parents awoke, Daisy slipped out of bed, dressed, and went as quietly as she dared down the stairs and out the front door. It was just starting to get light. She was determined to make it to the woods, to see if the stories people told about this mysterious huntress were true.

After an hour of walking, Daisy had seen nothing, not even the shadow of another creature, let alone a person. And she was getting thirsty. And tired. And just a little bit scared. It was getting hot. The woods were still. Daisy tripped over a fallen tree branch, fell on her bottom, and began to wail. That’s when she felt the touch on her shoulder and jumped. She whirled around, and there was a woman standing behind her. A woman with dark hair and silver eyes. A woman with a bow. She was slender and tall, taller than Daisy’s mother.

The woman smiled at her.

“Are you – are you Katniss?” Daisy asked.

The woman looked at her for long seconds. Her face was grave, like the face of Daisy’s teacher after she handed back Daisy’s homework. Daisy began to feel she had made a mistake, coming all the way out here. She knew her parents were probably awake by now, frantic with worry.

Then, unexpectedly, the dark woman with the bow smiled.

“How do you know my name?” the woman said.

“I know all about you,” Daisy whispered. “People tell stories about you, all the time. That’s why I came – to see if the stories were real.”

“Stories?” Katniss said. “What kinds of stories?”

“Good stories,” Daisy said. “You led the rebels that freed Panem.”

Katniss was silent for a few seconds.

“Any more?” she finally said. “That’s an old story.”

“You were in love with a baker –“ Daisy began.

“It’s okay,” the woman said. “I think I can tell where this story is going. What’s your name?”

“Daisy,” the little girl whispered.

“Nice name,” the woman said. “You remind me of someone.”

“My dad’s a baker,” Daisy said. “His name is Peeta.”

Daisy didn’t know why but at the mention of her dad’s name, the woman grew still, and her face looked sad. Daisy looked up wonderingly, at the trees. When she lowered her gaze, she was alone. She turned and turned, wondering where Katniss could have gone.

Then she heard it – the sound of voices, and heavy, clumping feet. She thought she heard her father’s voice calling her name.

* * * * *

Her father appeared from behind a stand of trees. He rushed forward, and there was yet another new expression on his face. He embraced her, and Daisy could feel his arms trembling. It made her want to keep on crying, even though she was so happy.

“Dad,” she said. “It’s true, about the Mockingjay. I saw her. She spoke to me.”

At her words, a look came over her father’s face. If Daisy didn’t know him so well, she might have thought he was angry. Her father swung her up in his arms. “Let’s head home,” he said. “Your mother is frantic. You mustn’t go into the woods again.”

“I’m not afraid of the woods, Dad,” Daisy said. “Katniss will protect me.”

Her dad stopped. She could feel his heart, beating wildly. Why? Was he afraid, too?

“You can never go into the woods again, and that’s that,” her father said.

“She’s so beautiful,” Daisy said.

“Daisy,” her father said, “are you listening to me? This is one rule that can never be broken.”

“Why not?” Daisy pouted. “I want to see Katniss again. She’s nice.”

“You can’t, all right? Your mother and I won’t allow it. Little girls just can’t go wandering off into the forest . . . the forest is full of wild things. Bad things. Things that might really hurt you.“

Daisy wanted to wail again, but stopped. Just over her father’s left shoulder, she thought she caught a flash of something silver from behind a tree. Was Katniss following them? Her father’s shoulders suddenly tensed, as if he too felt something. Daisy looked up at her father’s face.

Something about the look in his eyes – this time, it wasn’t anger that she saw there. It was – sadness? It was the look that came into his eyes during the annual musical program, when all of District 12 gathered at the Harvest Festival, and that year’s winner of the singing contest got up on stage to perform the Valley Song.

“Dad,” Daisy said. “You look sad.”

Her father looked down at her and hugged her more tightly. “I’m not sad, Daisy,” he said. He looked over his shoulder, directly at the tree where, just moments earlier, Daisy had thought she spotted a pair of silver eyes. Daisy followed his gaze, but there was nothing there now, only the thin twiggy branches of forest foliage.

Her father hoisted her up on his broad shoulders and they walked the rest of the way home in silence. But every now and then, Daisy would crane her neck to look back at the forest. The fifth time she did this, her father said, “Stop. You’re going to slip.”

* * * * *

That night, when her father was putting her to bed, Daisy suddenly looked up and said, “Dad, can you tell me the story of the Mockingjay?” She had heard it many times before, but that night she wanted to hear her father tell it again. He was good at telling stories; that one was her favorite. Even though ordinarily her father always let her choose what bedtime story she wanted him to tell her, this time he shook his head. Her mother was down below, clearing away the dinner things.

Suddenly there was a new silence in the house, enormous. Daisy held her breath.

“I have a better one,” her father said. “This one’s about a cow that jumped over the moon. Would you like me to tell you the story of a cow who jumped over the moon?”

Daisy’s eyes grew round. “Yes, please,” she whispered.

Her father smiled and began, “In a great green room . . . “

He hadn’t even gotten three sentences into the story before he saw his daughter’s eyelids start to droop. He waited a few more moments. Then, when her breathing had slowed to a steady rhythm, Peeta pulled the blanket over Daisy’s shoulders.

“Goodnight, Daisy,” he whispered. He kissed the top of his daughter's head and switched off the lamp.


	3. GRATITUDE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Wait," she said.
> 
> He turned around slowly, and she was there.
> 
> She was so -- splendid. That was the only thing he could think, at that moment. She was so vital and alive and strong. And healthy. Not like she was the last time he'd seen her, so many years ago, in the Capitol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to keep this story short.
> 
> Hopefully, you won't mind that it's so bittersweet.

Peeta set the bread down against what he judged to be a likely tree. He looked around him. The forest was quiet, but he knew she was watching.

“Thank you,” he said, loudly. He was surprised at the tremble in his voice. “Thank you for – last week. Talking to my daughter. She was scared. You stayed with her and that calmed her down.”

He was just about to leave when he heard her.

“Wait,” she said.

He turned around slowly, and she was there.

She was so -- splendid. That was the only thing he could think, at that moment. She was so vital and alive and strong. And healthy. Not like she was the last time he’d seen her, so many years ago, in the Capitol.

A flush spread over her cheeks. Peeta wondered if the flush mirrored the flare of heat over his own. She still wore her black hair -- still lustrous -- in a thick braid.

She seemed well. Oh thank God, Peeta thought. He had been imagining all the hardships she had to endure, living by herself in the forest. He worried about predators -- both the animal and the human kind -- and whether she had anyone to protect her.

"Katniss! It is good to see you," he said, warmly.

That flush on her cheeks was still there. She replied, evenly, "It's been a while. How’s your daughter?”

“She’s fine,” Peeta stammered. “She gave us a good scare that day. We panicked – “ Peeta’s tongue stilled. He was acutely conscious of having used the word We. But, he thought, why? He couldn’t meet her gaze.

“I don’t know why she came to the forest,” Peeta stumbled on. “She heard stories, but – I never thought she’d do something like this.”

“I’m glad that she’s fine,” Katniss said.

“I’m sorry,” Peeta continued. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

“Relax, Peeta,” Katniss said. “It was nothing. Children are curious.”

There was a long silence, heavy with tension. Then, they both began to speak, cutting each other off.

“How old is she – “ Katniss was saying, while Peeta asked, “And are you – fine?”

They both stopped, smiling nervously. Then, “She’s six,” Peeta said, just as Katniss said “I’m fine.”

They stopped again.

“I was wondering how she knew about me . . . “ Katniss said.

“Everyone knows about you,” Peeta said.

Katniss scowled. “People haven’t forgotten yet? Everything happened so long ago . . . “

“They’ll never forget,” Peeta said. “You captured people’s imagination.”

“I’m just – a nobody. Someone who happened to fall into the clutches of the Capitol. You’re the hero. You rescued me. If you hadn’t come along, they would have executed me,” Katniss said.

“You still have no idea, do you?” Peeta chuckled. “The effect you have. It was you that lit the fire of the rebellion, Katniss. When it seemed the Capitol intended to go through with your execution, we knew we had to take action. We couldn’t let you die,” Peeta said.

Katniss’s lips trembled. She was embarrassed, almost to the point of tears.

There was another silence.

Peeta examined her face carefully. Last winter had been a hard one. He remembered how his gut clenched at how high the snow drifts were getting. His wife yawned constantly and complained of being tired. That was Peeta’s first inkling that another child was coming.

“Last winter was a hard one,” Peeta said. “The blizzard . . . “

“Oh!” she said. She seemed surprised. “I got through it.”

“I went to the Hob,” Peeta said. “I asked Greasy Sae. She said she’d seen you after.”

Katniss scowled. “You spoke to Greasy Sae? About me?”

“Yes,” Peeta said hurriedly. “She didn’t tell you?”

Katniss shook her head.

“Oh,” Peeta said. He remembered that conversation so clearly. He’d tried to pretend he was just making conversation, but Greasy Sae had given him a sharp look, the minute he’d mentioned Katniss.

“I saw her,” Greasy Sae said. “Just a few days ago, when she came by to trade. Seemed fine. Maybe thinner than I’ve seen her. But otherwise fine.”

A weight seemed to come off Peeta’s chest. He didn’t know how many days had passed with him gritting his teeth and trying not to think of her alone in the forest, during the worst blizzard he’d ever known.

That was the last time he’d dared go to the Hob. He’d felt it: a whispering tide of conjecture that seemed to snap at his heels even as he’d turned his steps towards home.

“And how . . . are you?” Katniss asked, in a neutral tone.

Peeta shrugged. “Tired.”

“Happy?” Katniss asked.

He hesitated. “Yes,” he said. He looked up at the trees for a moment and then dragged his gaze back to her. She was smiling. “We’re expecting another one in the fall.”

“You’re a lucky man, Peeta Mellark,” Katniss said. Something in her tone was too casual.

Peeta responded with a faint smile. “I know I am,” he said. Then, running a hand nervously through his hair he said, “I’ve got to be heading back.”


	4. CAUGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I stopped by the Hob," Peeta says. "We needed more rum. For the fruitcakes."
> 
> "You were there so early?" Rose continues. "But didn't you tell me you slept in?"
> 
> "I told you about going to the Hob," Peeta says. "You must have forgotten."

A few nights later, after Daisy has been put to bed and Peeta's reading on the couch, Rose turns to him and says, "So how was last Sunday? You didn't go anywhere?"

A cliff yawns wide in Peeta's head.

"Sunday?" he says, feigning confusion.

"When I visited my brother. You stayed home. You've been a little 'off' all week. What happened?"

"I slept in," he says.

But there's something in his wife's look that worries him.

I won't tell her, Peeta thinks. He refuses to believe he doesn't have a choice: To enter or not, to speak or not, to dare or not.

Hawks and ravens, Peeta thinks. Can't I be like them.

"Kern said he thought he saw you out early, crossing the Town," Rose says.

Of course, Peeta thinks. Of course.

Kern is a miner who does odd jobs for the Town families on weekends. He's worked on the bakery, helping to install new display cases for the pastries Peeta's known for.

"I stopped by the Hob," Peeta says. "We needed more rum. For the fruitcakes."

"You were there so early?" Rose continues. "But didn't you tell me you slept in?"

"I told you about going to the Hob," Peeta says. "You must have forgotten."

"No, you told me you'd slept in," Rose says.

"I'm sorry, it slipped my mind," Peeta says. "After the Hob, I came back and slept in."

There is a long silence. Peeta thinks his wife has gone to sleep. Then he hears it. A strange sound, almost a hiccup. Rose's chest begins to heave. In all the years of their marriage, Peeta has never heard Rose make such a sound. It takes only a few seconds for Peeta to realize that Rose is crying.

"I can't let you go, Peeta," Rose says. "I'm not strong enough for that."

Peeta is prepared to deny everything again. He doesn't know why he lied in the first place. But Rose turns away from him just then, as if able to read his mind.

Peeta lets his wife cry herself to sleep.

The rest of that week, he and Rose say little to each other. Peeta's afraid of the things he might let slip. All week, he thinks of a braid of dark hair, a swirl of arrows. Who is the prey?

On Saturday night, however, Peeta reaches for her. His wife sinks gratefully into his embrace. He strokes her hair and rocks her tightly in his arms. "I love you," he whispers. Rose sighs and murmurs back, "Don't break my heart, Peeta Mellark. Just don't."

"I could never do that," Peeta whispers.

Rose pulls back and looks at him intently. She runs her hands over her belly, as if wanting to call his attention to the new life growing there. Peeta bends forward and places a warm kiss where the new child is. His child.

*     *     *     *

The wind blows with a wanton fury on the day that Rose's water breaks.

Everything happens at once: Peeta grabs the bag of Rose's clothes that's been lying by the door for weeks. He takes Daisy by the hand and leads her out. Rose is already at the hospital; her parents took her.

Peeta can hear all the windows rattling. He has a vague worry about Katniss, alone in the forest. Then he shrugs off the worry. She's survived much worse than this.

Ten hours later, Peeta has a son. He holds the infant in his arms, trying to memorize every feature. Daisy hops up and down, wanting to hold her little brother. Peeta lets his daughter brush a shy finger against the baby's downy head. The infant stretches and opens its mouth in little Os. Daisy giggles.

Rose stares at them from the bed, exhausted yet happy.

"Can we bring him home now, Mama?" Daisy asks, excited.

"Not just yet, Daisy," Peeta answers for his wife. "Mama needs to rest. Having a baby is hard work, you know."

"And was it work for Dylan, too?" Daisy asks.

"Yes," Peeta says, smiling. "That's why he cried when he was born. He's tired, too."

Daisy rests her head against her father's shoulder and sighs. "When I grow up," she says. "I'm going to have lots of babies."

Rose laughs. The sound is so unexpected that both Peeta and Daisy gape. "I hope not, Daisy," Rose says. "Two is plenty."

"But I want to help take care of Dylan!" Daisy cries. "I can do it! You and me, Papa, we can take care of him! I want Mama and Dylan home!"

 


	5. THE FOREST AGAIN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The talk seemed to die away when people realized Katniss was near. Why anyone would think she would begrudge Peeta and his wife this happiness was confusing to her.

Katniss perches on a branch high up an old, gnarled oak tree. She chews meditatively on a leaf. It's a beautiful spring evening.

She was in The Hob earlier that day, which was where she heard the news that Peeta's wife had delivered a healthy baby boy. The talk seemed to die away when people realized Katniss was near. Why anyone would think she would begrudge Peeta and his wife this happiness was confusing to her. She always knew Peeta had the makings of an excellent father.

But her loneliness weighs more heavily on her now. She whistles a vacant tune. There is no answer from the birds who usually trill around the forest. She rests her bow and arrow on a small nest of twigs, easily within her reach, and lays her head down on the branch's thick, rough bark. Her hair is a twisted mess and she would probably be more comfortable if she undid her braid and used the long strands to cushion her cheek, but she is indifferent to this small degree of comfort. Her heart sinks, knowing that Peeta will not be making any trips to the forest. Not for a long time. Not until his son is well and truly weaned.

All she has now of him are dreams and memories. His name is on her lips. She whispers it softly, lulling herself to sleep.

* * * * *

Peeta closes the bakery for a week. He posts a sign on the front window about having a new baby.

It's on the third day after her brother is born that Daisy manages to slip back into the forest.

The sun is already high when she gets there, her face and neck are streaked with sweat. But she isn't afraid, not like the last time.

She stops in front of a woodland pond and washes her face. When she looks up, Katniss is there.

Daisy smiles. "I have a baby brother now," Daisy tells her.

"I heard," Katniss says.

"Would you like to see him?" Daisy asks.

"I'm sure I will. But not right now."

"Aren't you lonely all the way out here by yourself?"

"No," Katniss says. "I love the forest. There is something new to look at every day."

"But you can have that in town, too!"

"No," Katniss says. "It wouldn't be the same."

Then they both hear it: the sound of a voice calling, "Daisy!"

Quicker than Daisy could have imagined, Katniss clambers up a nearby tree. Before Daisy can make up her mind whether to follow, her father appears. He runs to her and cradles her in his arms. "Daisy!" he says, his voice thick with relief. "Why do you keep running away? Your mother is sick with worry!"

"I wanted to tell Katniss about my brother," Daisy says.

Daisy's father pulls back and examines his daughter's face closely. "Did you see her? Did you see Katniss?"

Daisy nods. Then she remembers something. Her stomach grumbles.

She says, "I'm hungry. I want to go home."

"Okay, we will." Her father stands. Suddenly, he gasps. By Daisy's feet are some bright red berries and a bundle of sweet katniss roots. "Where did you get these?" he asks his daughter.

"I don't know," Daisy says. "They weren't there before."

Then her father does a very strange thing: he lifts his head and looks at the tree, the very same one that Katniss has climbed. As he peers up at it, there is a look on his face. A look Daisy has never seen before. She studies her father's face for a moment.

"Dad," she says, tugging on his arm and making him look down at her. "Are you sad?"

He doesn't answer her immediately, and this, too, is strange.

Daisy peers up at the tree, to see if Katniss is still there. She and her father remain standing there, peering up, for long moments.

"Do you see her?" Daisy asks.

Her father shakes his head. Carefully gathering up the berries and the katniss roots, he leads Daisy home.

*     *     *     *

That night, Daisy dreams she's in the forest. The air is still and mild. Everywhere, glowworms shine with a green fire.

Daisy lies down on a patch of cool moss and looks up at the dark night sky.

She knows Katniss is there. She isn't afraid.

The next time Daisy opens her eyes, the sun is shining into her face.

 

 


	6. EARLY IN THE MORNING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let's talk about the Mockingjay!" Daisy says, excitedly. She notices her father's movements become a bit more careful, his smile a little smaller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just bumbling around. Who knows where this will end?

Daisy watches her father kneading dough. It is early in the morning. Her mother and her baby brother are still asleep upstairs.

"Dad," Daisy says, after a few moments. "Why are you always up so early?"

"Well, Daisy," her father says, with a smile. "I've got plenty of work to do. And if I don't get up early to do it, it won't get done."

"Well, then, I'd like to help," Daisy says, getting off her stool and approaching the table.

"Oh, no, Daisy, that won't be necessary," her father says. "Just you stay right there and keep me company. That'll be good enough."

Daisy settles herself back on her stool. She is happy when it's just her and her father. Her baby brother has been getting all of her mother's attention; it's a little lonely for Daisy. "Well, what shall we talk about?" Daisy asks, already knowing what, but wanting to know what her father says, first.

"It's up to you. Anything you like. I just like to hear the sound of your voice," her father says.

"Let's talk about the Mockingjay!" Daisy says, excitedly. She notices her father's movements become a bit more careful, his smile a little smaller.

He sighs. "What about -- the Mockingjay?" her father says.

"Well, don't you feel sorry for her? Out there alone in the forest? You said it was dangerous."

"You don't need to feel sorry for her," her father says, almost sharply. "She can take care of herself. Better than most people."

"But she's just a girl," Daisy says.

"Not just any girl -- " her father says, then stops. Bites off the end of his sentence. Just like that.

Daisy hates it when her father does that. And he's been doing that more and more lately.

She's stubborn. People say she's just like her father that way. Stubborn, but noble. What is that word -- "noble"? She'll have to ask her teacher one day.

She doesn't know yet that it's a hard thing, especially if you're a man who loves two women. And the one you love more isn't your wife. But Daisy doesn't know any of that. Doesn't care about any of that. All she knows is that Katniss is her friend.

After a few moments of silence, Daisy says, "But she'd be _much_ better with other people."

"Well, Daisy," her father says. "It's her choice, where she wants to live."

"But can't we get her to change her mind?" Daisy says.

"Why?" her father says.

"Because no one should be alone," Daisy says.

"Daisy, why don't you sing me a song?" her father says.

"Okay," Daisy says, clapping her hands. There is nothing she loves more than singing. "I'll sing you the Valley Song," Daisy says. And right away, before Daisy can sing a note, her mother calls, "Peeta!" and she walks in, rocking Daisy's baby brother in her arms. But not before Daisy has a chance to see her father's eyes grow dark.

"Peeta! What's all this chatter so early in the morning? The baby roused."

"I'm sorry," Peeta says.

"Daisy, you need to get ready for school."

Daisy rushes to her mother and says, "Let me give the baby a kiss!"

"Gently now," Rose says, bending forward so that Daisy can reach up and look at her baby brother. Daisy kisses the baby, then runs upstairs.

"And Peeta," Rose says, turning to her husband. "Where will you be today?"

Peeta looks a little confused. "I'll be right here," he says. "Where I always am. Is something wrong?"

Rose bites her lip and turns her face away. "No, nothing's wrong. Don't be letting her chatter on so much, so early in the morning. I need my rest."

"Yes, I'm sorry," Peeta says. "I like her company but I'll tell her, she has to be quiet."

Just then, Peeta hears, in his head, _You can't keep me away, can you? You're too weak._

 _Go away_ , Peeta thinks.

 _Oh no_ , the voice says. Her voice. _You can't keep me out of your thoughts._

 _I can_ , Peeta thinks.

 _No_ , she says again. _You're too weak. Weak as water._

 _I'm not weak_ , Peeta thinks. _I'm strong._

 _Are you?_ she says.

 _Yes_ , Peeta thinks. _I'll show you. I'll show you how strong I am._

"Peeta, why are you just standing there?" Rose says.

_A weak little thing, I told you . . ._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I post very intermittently.
> 
> BECAUSE I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I AM DOING, LOL.


	7. LISTENING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thinking of him makes her breath come a little faster. The beating of her heart suddenly starts to get loud. It's like the swell of an ocean wave. That's how powerful the sound is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, another chapter? No one is more surprised than -- myself!
> 
> Don't expect too much because this might be all there is. Seriously.

In the morning, Katniss wakes to find that she has shed a skin.

Strange.

The forest is quiet. It's very cold.

She looks across the meadow, to where she knows the bakery is. The rest of the town is still sleeping, but the baker will already be hard at work at the ovens.

Then she imagines the newborn child, lying in its mother's arms. Peeta's son. Translucent skin, a barely there shape.

In her imagination, Katniss lets her eyes roam over the infant's body. It's sleeping so soundly, so peacefully. And Rose is peaceful, too. Also sleeping.

It's as if Katniss can feel herself hovering just above the bed where Rose and the infant sleep.

How beautiful they are, the two! Rose has hair and skin like a painting. She looks like an angel, if those creatures did exist.

Katniss smirks. She doesn't believe in anything. Maybe just the baker, not anything else.

Thinking of him makes her breath come a little faster. The beating of her heart suddenly starts to get loud. It's like the swell of an ocean wave. That's how powerful the sound is. If she can hear it, then can all the forest animals hear it, too? What if she -- Katniss looks down at the forest floor. It's a long way off. She's thinking.

*     *     *     *     *

Peeta runs hard across the meadow. Really runs.

He has to get to the forest.

He's still wearing his bakery apron.

He has to get to her. He doesn't care anymore if half the town -- and by tomorrow, the whole town -- will know: Peeta Mellark, father of a two-month-old infant, and a six-year-old girl, husband to Rose, was seen running flat-out through town, and heading for the forest. Which can only mean one thing.

It was just before dawn. It was him because he was running with that gimp leg, and it slowed him down somewhat.

He was wheezing, though frankly, not as much as a man his age would, running flat-out like that. Maybe he'd done it before -- ?

It was cold that morning, so cold. Mellark's breath hung in the air.

What made him run, in the first place?

Like he was being chased.

Or no, not chased.

But he hasn't come back. And it's dark.

He disappeared through the trees.

Sure, nothing's going to happen to him in the forest. Because _she's_ there.

But what was he running like that for?

The talk went round within half an hour of the sight.

The other thing was: he was not running like a man who didn't know the way.

In fact, he looked like he might have taken off in that direction before.

The next day, his wife is tight-lipped and silent, and the little girl is pale and hardly speaks in class (though everyone knows she's a regular chatterbox, usually). Which can only mean that the baker still hasn't returned.

The forest is very quiet. And we are all waiting. For what, we aren't sure. But we all wish -- deep in our hearts -- that the two decided to run off. Because they need, you know, to be together.

*     *     *     *     *

Peeta wakes up, finally. He finds himself face down on a pile of leaves. He awakens to the sound of an angel singing. It's singing softly into his ear.

He opens his eyes, and she's looking at him. It's not an angel, it's just _her_.

She's shy. She pats his shoulder carefully. Like she's not sure. Sure, they've touched before. But that was a long time ago.

He sits up. She has a concerned look on her face. There's a smidgeon of earth scraped across her right cheek. She probably doesn't know it's there. He knows he should look away, but he wants so badly to put his hand up and -- touch. He keeps staring at her cheek until he realizes she's dropped her eyes. He must be making her uncomfortable.

"Why did you come here?" she asks.

"I don't know," Peeta says. "Because you stopped singing?"

"Oh," she says. "Because you thought -- ?"

And now the silence rings through his head. And he can't answer.

 


	8. FRIENDS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might be a long time between updates (Might be a year, even!)
> 
> I thought I'd leave you with a last chapter, to tide you over.

Peeta gets back from the forest the following evening. Rose, tight-lipped, says that Daisy has been crying.

He immediately goes up to check on her. He's just managed to open her bedroom door when the little girl hurls herself at him, clinging to his waist. "Daddy!" she says. "Where were you?"

Peeta picks up his daughter and carries her to her bed. "I'm here. Go to sleep?"

Daisy hugs her father and then whispers, "Did you bring Katniss with you?"

Peeta shakes his head.

"Then where is she?" Daisy says.

"In the forest," Peeta says. "Go to sleep."

"Why'd you leave her there?"

Her father pauses. "I don't know, Daisy. Maybe she likes it there. She wouldn't like it _here_."

"Oh," Daisy says. "But you could make her cheese buns."

Peeta smiled. "You like those, don't you?"

"And so would Katniss!"

Peeta sits wordless.

"Dad," Daisy whispers. "You look sad again."

Peeta raises his head and looks at his daughter. "I'm not sad," he says, firmly.

"Yes, you are! You know, it's not good to tell lies. Teacher said so. She said that to me after I told the class Katniss was my friend."

Peeta freezes. "When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me?"

But Daisy is chattering on, oblivious of the look on her father's face. "Oh, it happened after the first time I went to the forest. Next time I see Katniss -- "

"Daisy," her father interrupts. "There will be no next time."

She scowls at him. Then, to herself, she thinks. _I can't tell him. It's not really a lie. If he doesn't ask, I don't have to lie._

"Tell me a story," she wheedles.

"Daisy." Peeta stops. "I'm pretty tired. Tomorrow?"

"What if I tell _you_ a story?" Daisy asks.

Peeta gives her a small smile. "Go ahead."

Daisy chants, "You're a horse. A horse! A horse! The finest horse in 12! I want to ride on your back!"

"No," Peeta says.

Daisy gets up on her knees and lifts her arms. "Please, Daddy! Please!"

Peeta finally relents and picks her up. "Ups-a-daisy! Ups-a-daisy!" he says.

Daisy squeals in glee.

"Peeta!" Rose says, suddenly appearing at the door. "What has gotten into you? She has to go to bed. She has school tomorrow."

"Right," Peeta says. "I'm sorry. Okay, Daisy. You heard your mother. I'm putting you down now."

* * * *

When Peeta comes downstairs, Rose is on the couch with Dylan in her arms. She gives Peeta an accusatory look.

"What?" Peeta says.

"You did it. You did it again," Rose says vehemently.

"Did what?" Peeta says.

"You went to the forest! To see -- "

"I'm not going anywhere," Peeta says.

"How could you?" Rose hisses.

"She was in danger," Peeta says.

"And how do you know? Even if she was, she can protect herself!"

"Not always. Not from everything," Peeta says.

"Like you could! You know, your first responsibility is to your family!"

"I know. I'm sorry. But this was -- important."

Rose stands, absolutely white with fury. "How dare you? How dare you say that anything to do with her is important? I am the mother of your children. Your children, Peeta!"

"And she and I are just friends!"

"Friends! You call it friendship when you go rushing off, not saying a word to me, letting the whole town gossip . . . "

"Let them gossip," Peeta says, roughly. "I don't care."

"And then Daisy. In school. The taunts."

Peeta's eyes darken. "I'll take her tomorrow. Every day from now on. If I have to."

"And how am I going to manage here, while I wait for you to get back? I have my hands full with Dylan as it is."

"I could hire someone to help out . . . "

"Oh? Like who! Katniss?"

Peeta gives her a look, rises to his feet, and goes upstairs.

"You haven't answered me, Peeta!" Rose calls from the foot of the stairs. "Who would you hire?"

Peeta bites his lips together. "I'll figure it out!" he calls down. He begins undressing. His clothes are filthy. He realizes he's left his apron. And he only has one spare. He sighs. He's tired, too tired to have this conversation. Maybe Katniss can leave it at the Hob?

_You can't keep me out of your thoughts . . ._

Her again!


	9. THE BAKER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter before I quit for another year.
> 
> Seriously.

Peeta is still thinking about Katniss. Still worrying about her.

She always reassures him she is fine, but after the previous week, he isn't sure.

It wasn't that someone was meaning to do her harm. It was her mind. Her mind had dangerous thoughts. One thought in particular. It hovered in her mind and stayed there.

Katniss doesn't know that Peeta knows what she is thinking.

He never told her, but that's the reason he fought so hard during the Rebellion. He knew where she was, exactly. In Snow's prison. Which cell, even. He knew all of that.

People called him brave. They said he went fearlessly into Snow's dungeons, and he did not hesitate when he had to kill people in order to get there. He killed again, and again, and again.

Before the Rebellion, he had never killed anything. Not one thing.

And then he learned -- the Rebels made him learn -- how to shoot a gun.

And now he won't talk about it. Refuses all the accolades, all the medals. He went home. If people come snooping around to the bakery, he says only that he did what he had to do. Now he just wants to disappear, be a baker again. Look, he says to the reporters, the snoops: _You're just wasting your time if you think you can get anything more out of me. I worked my whole damn life to be a baker and that's who I am._

So people would leave. But they didn't get mad. They talked among themselves and said things like "brave," "noble," "self-sacrificing."

Yes, all those things. That is exactly what Peeta Mellark is.

He doesn't tell anyone, but the real sacrifice is what happened after. To him and the Mockingjay. Yes, that's it: he had to walk away from her. Had to.

When he left to go with the Rebels to the Capitol, his girlfriend Rose made him promise: "Come back, you hear?" He promised her he would. And he did come back. And he and Rose were married. And he seemed like a reasonably happy man.


	10. THE MAYOR

One fine Monday morning, just at the edge of spring, the Mayor, a big, pale, slightly breathless man, stops by the bakery.

Rose is at the counter, her baby balanced on her hip. When the Mayor comes in, she jumps up and nearly upsets the stool she's been sitting on.

"Hello, Mrs. Mellark," the Mayor says. "Your husband in?"

"Yes! He's in the back. Shall I go get him?"

"If you would be so kind," the Mayor says.

Rose ducks into the back, and in a few seconds she returns, Peeta following close behind.

"Mayor Undersee!" Peeta exclaims. "To what do we owe the honor -- "

"Ah, I hope you can spare me a few minutes of your time, Mellark. There's something I need to ask you."

Peeta's eyes assume an anxious look. "What is this about?"

"Oh, not to worry, Peeta," the Mayor says. "You're not in trouble."

"Good to hear," Peeta says, managing a shrug.

"Care for some tea, Mayor?" Rose breaks in.

"Why, yes, Rose, that would be lovely," the Mayor says.

After Rose leaves to get the tea, the Mayor says, "Is there somewhere we can talk, Peeta?"

Peeta nods and leads the Mayor up the stairs to the living quarters. There's a cramped parlor there. Thankfully, it's a school day so Daisy isn't around. Peeta worries that the Mayor's visit may have something to do with Katniss.

The Mayor seats himself on Peeta's best chair and leans back, sighing. "How many years has it been since the Revolution, Peeta?" he asks.

Peeta says, "Seven years."

"Ah! How time flies. It seems like only yesterday when we were fighting for our lives. Nasty business, we all lost something in that period, didn't we?"

Peeta nods, slowly. He lost his parents, and his two older brothers. The Mayor lost a daughter, Madge, who'd been the same class as Peeta in school.

"Regardless, you haven't done too badly for yourself. You have the bakery, and that lovely wife. And the wee ones."

Peeta doesn't answer.

"We've all seen you hard at work, Peeta. Hard at work. Whatever success you reaped has been well earned."

"Thank you," Peeta says quietly, still wondering about the purpose of the Mayor's visit.

"And me and some of the other people in Town got to talking -- well, maybe you could give a talk to the school."

"A talk?" Peeta said slowly, wonderingly. "I don't understand -- "

"Well, you _are_ good with words. Look how you managed to get the whole district behind you on the plan to free the Mockingjay. Katniss."

Peeta gives an exasperated snort. "I'm not -- well. I'm just a baker," he says. "Like I've said all along. I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Oh come now, Peeta," the Mayor says. "There aren't many people around who can remember things as clearly as you do. Who know, for instance, what it was like in the dungeons. And we need the children to know. We need them to remember."

Peeta sits staring at him, stunned.

The Mayor chuckles and gives Peeta a light tap on his knee. Peeta jerks his leg away. That's when he notices Rose, standing at the door to the parlor, the tea tray in her hands. Her face is very pale.

"Rose, I -- " Peeta says.

"Oh, my dear!" the Mayor says, turning to Rose. "What a lovely tea set. I was just telling your husband here that my wife and I would like to have you and your family over for dinner some time."

"Oh!" Is all Rose can say.

"We want Peeta to speak at the fundraising dinner for the school. Ours is a rather backward community and there is much we want from our school by way of improvement. We need donations of building materials, we need to solicit well-wishers and sponsors and to engage volunteers. The project will involve years of effort, years of fund-raising. We're planning to kick off the initiative with a ceremony on the seventh anniversary of the rebellion. The event will be fairly simple, there'll be cookies and lemonade. It would be so nice if your family could join us. A speech from Peeta would make a world of difference."

"Rose -- " Peeta says helplessly.

"Think about it, Peeta. After all, it's not just about you. It's about how you saved the Mockingjay, and in doing so, how you saved all of our lives. You keep protesting that your'e just a baker. But you're also one of the Rebellion's leaders, the only one who knew where Katniss was being held. You were the one who found her, who brought her out. If you hadn't found her in time, she would have become a martyr. So, take your time, you and your wife. Think about it."

*     *     *     *     *

That night, lying in bed, Peeta says, "I don't want to do it, Rose."

Rose is silent for a few moments. Then she says, "They're going to make you do it anyway, Peeta. And it's not as if you're going to be saying anything we don't know already."

"I don't understand," Peeta says. "Why me? Why, after all these years?"

"Maybe they mean to get you more involved."

"Involved? In what?"

"Maybe -- when the Mayor's term is up . . . "

"No," Peeta says at once. "I'll never do it."

"I'm just saying, Peeta. Someone, somewhere, wants you very badly on their side. Whatever that means."

"You have nothing to worry about," he says. "I'll never get involved in that business. Never."

"I know you don't want to . . . " Rose says. Her voice trails off.

Peeta kisses the top of his wife's head. "No, I won't. Never. It was enough what I did -- before. Can't they be happy with that."

 

 


	11. CEREMONY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here you are! Another chapter! Can you believe it?
> 
> Again, usual disclaimer: No promises. I'm writing this on a train. Don't know how/if/when it needs to continue. But I'm glad I got to write Peeta's speech, which just seemed a nice way for him to remind people of Katniss, and her role in inspiring people to overthrow Snow.

Did you hear? The whispers go round and round the Hob.

Katniss is wandering, not really needing anything, just enjoying the hum of activity, and the sound of voices other than her own. She's usually happy being alone in the forest, but in the past few weeks her loneliness weighs on her. She promised him she wouldn't do -- that thing he thought she'd been about to do. She was only tempted that one time. But when he came into the forest, frantic, calling her name, when she saw the dread etched on his features, she knew she could never leave _him_.

So here she is now, in the Hob. It's the place where the Seam people come to swap stories. She always stops by Greasy Sae's table, she loves the squirrel stew.

Greasy Sae seems to have more than the usual number of Seam customers. Katniss waits patiently to one side while she watches Greasy Sae ladle stew. When people notice Katniss, they smile and move back so she can cut in ahead of them, but she doesn't. She's ordinary. She doesn't want to be treated as anything but.

For a while, standing and waiting, inhaling the scent of the savory stew, Katniss thinks she's back in the old days. It's not a bad feeling. For one thing, her dad's still alive. He's holding her hand. People come up and greet her father. He is well-liked. And people always have nods and smiles for Katniss. "Ah, sure, the girl looks more and more like you every day," they tell her father.

It's at the Hob that Katniss hears the news that Peeta is going to be the main speaker at the ceremony commemorating the 7th anniversary of the Revolution. She is disbelieving. He's always valued his privacy. She thinks of his run to the forest, when he came to her frantic, shouting "No, Katniss! Stop!" That run might have started something. For sure, half the town saw him. Maybe it reminded them of an earlier time. When the baker had done that heroic, impetuous, impulsive, illogical, but ultimately glorious thing.

So now she owes him twice -- maybe, even, three times -- over.

*     *     *     *     *

Peeta is speaking! He's really doing it! Katniss's breath stutters in her chest. She came late, wanting to just blend into the crowd. But now that she's in the square, the press of so many bodies is making her dizzy.

The day of the ceremony to mark the seventh anniversary of the successful rebellion is warm and clear. Behind him on the stage are Rose and his two children. And he knows -- knows, _feels_ \-- that Katniss is watching him, too; Where? His mind wanders around. _Where are you, Katniss?_

"Infamy and injustice: these were the two things the Snow regime stood for. If we are to survive, we have to teach our children the people we ourselves long to be. Never more shall we have games that murder children, Seam or Merchant or Capitol. We remember those who gave up so much, and one person in particular, who suffered so grievously under imprisonment by Snow, and all for the crime of poaching, which she did only to keep her younger sister and mother alive."

He takes a deep breath.

_I see you, Peeta. I'm so proud._

"We can never forget. We must never allow ourselves to forget. I can never forget. The courage of that one person . . .  As those who fought against Snow proved, suppression of the truth is not merely futile but almost a guarantee of something fierce emerging from it, creating an opposing and more powerful and ultimately overwhelming force, like sunlight breaking into a room that has been kept too long in shadow. And that person was -- " He gasps, he almost loses the thread of his sentence.

_Keep going, Peeta! I'm here._

"You all know who she was."

Peeta's hands clench the podium.

The crowd murmurs, restless.

_It's okay, Peeta. I know what you mean. Take your time._

There's a profound silence when Peeta has finished speaking. He's perspiring. It isn't the sun. It's _her_. It's always been her.

"Thank you for having me today," he says, nodding at the crowd. "Thank you. It's been an honor."

_I'll always see you, baker. In my dreams._

"Well!" Mayor Undersee says, joining Peeta on the stage. "That was something, eh?" He rubs his hands together and clears his throat. "And now, back to the fun and drink! I don't know about you, but my throat's absolutely parched!"

Peeta turns to Rose. "Let's go home?" he says. She nods.

Katniss watches how careful Peeta is with Rose. How he takes the baby from her arms.

_A son, you've a son, Peeta! Take care. I'm so proud._

Then Katniss slips quietly away.

 


	12. THE CABIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very, very short because.
> 
> Well, you know, why.

_I want you._

Peeta's eyes snap open. It's not quite day. He has to wait a few moments before his eyes adjust to the darkness.

The voice again: _I want you._

Rose's head is on his shoulder and his right arm is dead. I want you too, he thinks.

_Come back._

"Peeta," Rose says. The sound of her voice is almost shocking in the morning stillness, a stillness which Peeta has come to treasure, because that's when he hears Katniss's thoughts with the greatest clarity. "What is it, Peeta?"

*     *     *     *     *

It's a bright, warm spring day. Katniss decides to visit her father's old cabin by the lake. Someone's nailed the door shut. She kicks and kicks until finally, it gives. She steps inside. Smell of wood rot and dead mice. Someone's boarded up the windows, too. It's not hard to tear away the soft, worm-worn wood planks. On the floor she sees a torn pillow. A twisted quilt.

Katniss tosses the quilt aside. Underneath is a soot-blackened and scorched woodstove.

She looks around the small room, thinking about ruin. And poverty. And about the Seam. And wonders why it didn't occur to her sooner. That she could turn this into a home.

She sits quietly, letting the memories come. Memories of hunting with her father. How proud he was when she shot her first rabbit. That was their game, for the most part: rabbits and squirrels. Her father didn't like to go after deer. There was only the one time . . . but that was because they were starving.

She remembers a goat. "Lady," Katniss whispers to herself, wondering that she has retained this one little detail. Her mother was angry that her father had added another mouth to feed, but her father said no, "It will be good for the girls." And it was. Because Lady's milk turned out to be good, so good.

She's lost in thought and isn't at all surprised when she winds up thinking about Peeta again. When he came that day on the tail-end of winter, she'd asked him, selfishly, "When will I see you again?" He'd looked so pained. He'd shaken his head and said, "I don't know." And that ought to have been enough. For her.

She hears a sound and whirls, snatching up her bow and nocking an arrow in one swift movement. She lets out a sigh when she sees a gray squirrel scampering away.

There are ghosts here, but she can deal with those. She shakes her head to clear her thoughts, then gets to work.

 


	13. BRILLIANCE

Daisy's mother makes it very clear to Daisy: she is not to go into the forest again. Ever.

Daisy is disappointed.  She thinks her Dad was softening on that point (That's what all the whispers were about, weren't they? That her father goes to the forest sometimes? So how can he deny Daisy? It's not like there's anything bad in the forest. Katniss isn't a bad person, no matter how angry her mother gets at the mention of anything to do with the Mockingjay.)

Since Daisy saw Katniss, the other kids are a little nicer to her now. The Cartwright boy, who she really likes, lets her taste his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, sometimes. He doesn't like it when she takes a bite. He lets her run her tongue over the edges of the bread, where the peanut butter leaks out. He doesn't laugh at Daisy, not like he used to.

Sometimes, when teacher has them all sit on the floor during "quiet time" (which is really just so teacher can fold her arms on her desk and put her head down and nap, Daisy thinks), she lets her mind go to the forest, imagining what Katniss is doing there.

Her father let her eat the berries Katniss gave her. He made sure she ate them all, right before he took her in to her mother, after the second time he found her in the forest. He put the katniss roots in his pocket and didn't take them out, not even to show Daisy's mother, which made Daisy a little mad. Afterwards, when it was just her and her Dad together, she asked him what he did with them. He said he put them away, Daisy could have them later. But she never saw the katniss roots again. She thinks her father ate them.

Last week, teacher asked them to draw their Most Inspiring Person. Most of the girls drew their mothers, and most of the boys drew their fathers. Daisy had a hard time deciding between her father or Katniss. She felt guilty about not considering her mother at all. But to be honest, she feels much closer to her father. She always has. Whether it's because she and her father have exactly the same smile, or because they both share a love for green things, or because he makes cheese buns and she loves to eat cheese buns, she can't say for sure.

In the end, she drew (of course) the Mockingjay. Teacher looked at Daisy's drawing for a long moment. Then she gazed straight into Daisy's eyes and said, "You have talent."

"What is ta -- ta-lun?" Daisy asked. She was hot all over, like she felt sometimes when her father praised her for doing something right.

"It means," teacher said gently, "that you have a good eye. How did you know what she looked like?"

"I saw her," Daisy said.

The teacher didn't say anything after that, just nodded.

Daisy wanted to take the drawing home, to show her father, but teacher said she wanted to keep it to show the principal. There was space in the principal's office for hanging the best student artwork, and teacher said she would suggest that Daisy's drawing of the Mockingjay be put there.

Daisy couldn't wait to tell her father.

He came that day to fetch her from school, looking a little tired. He tries to come every day now, even though it's hard because he's usually awake at first light, baking bread.

Daisy told him about her picture and, for a few moments, his eyes lit up.

"That's wonderful, Daisy," he said, giving her a big smile.

"But I wish I could show you my drawing," Daisy said.

"It's okay," her father said. "I like to imagine."

Daisy looked at him, and she saw that was true. Especially, right then. Her father's eyes looked very far away. But Daisy knew he was imagining her drawing of the Mockingjay: Katniss's dark braid, her silver eyes, the proud set of her chin. Daisy knew, right then, that she had made her father very happy.

 

 


	14. STRANGERS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd advise you to read each chapter as if it's going to be the last.
> 
> That's how I've been writing them, anyway.
> 
> (I know, I know: I kept saying I didn't know when I could continue -- then I dropped six chapters. Who can explain, LOL?)

The wind spins vortices in the strands of Katniss's hair. She's high up in a tree, watching two men down below.

Bending and grasping, with the attention of scavengers, the men pick their way carefully along the forest floor. They're within half a mile of her cabin. Maybe they're there just to muck around. Nevertheless, they are strangers, and Katniss thought she knew everyone in town.

Their clothes are ragged. (Where was their home?). A drooling dog comes running up, a dead squirrel dangling from its mouth.

The men are not young: maybe in their thirties? They laugh and joke, in voices much too loud for the forest.

They're lost, Katniss decides. She debates whether to offer them help, then shakes her head no. She waits, arrow nocked and at the ready.

_Who are these men?_

One of the men grumbles: "We haven't got nothing all day, except for this half-chewed squirrel."

"Steady on. We'll find something," says the other man.

The pair continue walking, and Katniss darts just behind them, hoping, praying they will stop before they get to her cabin.

"This place is a desert," says one of them. "Why'd we come?"

"Well, if we don't get anything, we still might get to see _her_ ," the other man says.

"Her-- ?"

"Her. These are _her_ woods."

Katniss gasps. She almost loses her hold on the branch. Luckily, the men are still engrossed in their conversation and don't seem to have heard her.

"How do you know these are her woods?"

"You don't remember? She's from 12."

"I know she's from 12. But how do you know these are her woods?"

"She lives here. In the forest."

"What? All by herself?"

"Yeah."

"What's the matter with her?"

"She grew up here. Something like that."

"That was long ago. The rebels probably gave her a mansion. She doesn't live here any longer. Why would anyone?"

The other man laughs. It's a nasty laugh.

"If I were that baker, I would've -- "

"What?"

"Well, you know."

"The baker. He got a sweetheart. Settled, he is. A wife. Kiddies."

"Ha! I've heard he might be re-thinking that."

"Can't say I blame him. Have you seen her?"

"Course I have! They trotted her out for the Victory Parade!"

"Seven years ago."

"She's only 24 now, that's still young."

"They say she was in love with him, though."

"With who? _The baker_?"

"Yeah. Don't women always fall in love with their rescuers?"

The men continue, laughing and talking. They veer off, away from her cabin. Katniss leans her head against the trunk of the tree, chest heaving.

*     *     *     *

"What in the world? Peeta!" Rose says sharply.  "Peeta! Didn't you hear me calling? Is the cake ready? Mrs. Sanders is here."

Rose stands glaring at her husband. The cake's in front of him.

"It's nearly done," Peeta says. "Just one last thing."

He puts a few finishing touches on the frosting, carefully tracing loops around the sides. Then he steps away and peruses his handiwork.

"All right," he tells his wife. "It's ready. I'll bring it out."

Not bothering to answer, Rose turns. He can hear her talking to Mrs. Sanders. "Ah, sure your daughter is going to love it!" Rose says.

"I know she will. Your husband is a real artist, my dear."

 


	15. BIRTHDAYS

It's Rose's birthday. Peeta gives her a sapphire brooch. He saved up for months.

"Oh, so pretty!" she exclaims, and plants a kiss on his lips.

Peeta smiles happily. He is happy that he can make his wife happy. Only, his wife's birthday is just six days after Katniss's. And he didn't give Katniss anything. She spent that day like she's spent all her days: alone.

Some things are just meant to be. Yes.

Later, when the children are asleep, Rose reaches for him and they make love. It's satisfying, they've always known how to please each other. Afterwards, she curls up against his side.

What is it? he thinks. Gasps.

_You won't forget me will you, Peeta?_

No, never. I can't. He wants to tell her: Go to sleep. It's late. It's almost midnight.

_Just -- don't forget me. You're the only one who remembers._

Stay safe, Peeta thinks. Stay safe, Katniss.

He's being silly. Of course she'll stay safe. She's survived by herself all these years, all alone. But he still thinks it, all the time: Stay safe.

_Do you love me?_

I do.

_When you're with her, do you think of me?_

Yes.

_We won't ever be together, will we?_

*    *     *     *

Daisy's quiet, thinking. Things between her mother and father seem better since her mother's birthday. At least, her dad smiles more. She thinks her mother liked her dad's present, the sapphire brooch. When I am an old, married woman, Daisy thinks, I want a brooch just like the one Dad gave Mom.

One day she asks her father, "How old were you when you and Mom got married?"

Peeta looks down at her, amused.

"I was 19," he says.

"And now, how old are you?"

"27."

Daisy is quiet, thinking.

"Why these questions, Daisy? You're not thinking of leaving us, are you?"

Daisy grows hot. "No! 'course not! I would never leave you, Dad!" Tears come to her eyes at the mere thought.

"Hey, what's all this now?" Peeta says, bending down to his daughter. "You're going to make someone a fine wife someday, Daisy. Just like your mother."

"I don't want to be someone's fine wife," Daisy sobs. "I just want to be with you! Forever and ever!"

Peeta holds his daughter close and strokes her back. "I would love that," he whispers. "I would love to have you with me forever and ever. But some day, you're going to fall in love, and want children of your own."

Daisy thinks about that -- the "falling in love" part -- and feels a little better.

"How old do you think I'll be when I get married?" she whispers.

Peeta smiles and says, "Hopefully not before you're 25."

25! Like her friend Jessica's older sister, who still doesn't have a boyfriend. That's on account she's cross-eyed.

"But why 25?" Daisy asks.

"Because I'm selfish," her Dad says, smiling. "And I want to have you at home for as long as possible."

Daisy thinks for a while. Then she asks, "Do you think the Mockingjay will get married someday?"

Her father's face becomes grave. "Of course," he says. But the happiness is gone from his voice.

"Who do you think she'll marry?" Daisy continues. "Someone from town?"

"She can have anyone," Peeta says. "Anyone at all."

"Do you think she could marry her cousin?"

"Who is her cousin?"

"The hunter. The one who's with her sometimes when she comes to town to trade."

Clearly, Peeta thinks, his daughter is far more observant than he realized.

"I don't know, Daisy," Peeta says. "Do you think she loves him?"

Daisy frowns, thinking.

"No," she says, finally. "But she needs someone. Let's find her someone, Dad. I'm sure we could find her someone who'd want to marry her."

"Maybe she doesn't want to get married. Have you thought of that?"

Again Daisy pauses to think.

"All girls want to get married, Dad," she says, finally.

Her father nods and gets up. Daisy knows what this means. The conversation is over.

 


	16. THE HOB

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short one! Hope it's enough.

Peeta tells Rose he needs to go to the Hob. "The Mayor likes his fruitcake with lots of rum," he explains.

She barely glances at him, just gets up from bed, trailing a sheet around her naked form. In the dim early morning light, her skin seems to glow. He has loved that skin, for so many years. She turns and fixes him with a look.

"You don't need to ask my permission, Peeta," Rose says.

*     *     *     *

The Hob is busy, buzzing with energy. Peeta stops and drinks it all in. He has missed coming here. He's avoided it because he doesn't want to bump into _her_ \-- not out here, where gossip and innuendo percolate.

He goes straight to Ripper and she looks astonished. "Well -- !" she says. "I was beginning to wonder what happened? Was that last batch of liquor not to your standards?" She sounds a little annoyed. Peeta can't blame her. He used to be one of her most regular customers.

"I'm sorry," Peeta says, runnng a hand through his hair sheepishly. "The new baby and all." He shrugs.

"Pah!" Ripper says, waving off his useless apology. "I'm glad to see you. How many bottles?"

"Umm. Four?"

"Four it is!" Ripper says.

While she's fetching the rum, Peeta cranes his neck. Wonder if _she's_ here?

Ripper's voice breaks into his thoughts. "She's right over there," Ripper says, as if she's read his mind.

_What are you doing here?_

Looking for you. Obviously, Peeta thinks. When he looks back at Ripper, she's got her arms crossed. There's a smirk on her face.

"Every Sunday, same time," Ripper says.

"Thanks," Peeta mumbles, grabbing the bottles. His cheeks are burning. "I'll be back next week."

"Sundays are good. You'll remember?"

_I'm watching you._

"Every Sunday," Peeta says. "From now on."

Ripper just nods. Amusement is written all over her face. "I'll be looking for you, baker."

"I'll be here," Peeta says. "Without fail."

"Good," Ripper says. "Otherwise I'll rip your head off."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mayor likes rum in his fruitcakes. Good one, Peeta, lol!


	17. THE REVOLUTION

That night, after Rose and the children have gone to sleep, Peeta lies on his back and stares at the ceiling. The conversation with Ripper keeps playing in his head.

No, he thinks. He will not go there.

They can speculate all they like. He isn't going back.

*     *     *     *

Mrs. Huston orders a wedding cake for her son. The son's fiancée is from Four. It's a new world; before the Rebellion, no one married out of district.

It's a three-tier cake, Mrs. Huston is pulling out all the stops. The groom is her eldest, after all.

"He loves chocolate," Mrs. Huston tells Peeta. Peeta nods, writing notes down to muse over later.

*     *     *     *

Dylan develops an ear infection that Friday. Rose is exhausted by his crying. Peeta stays up Saturday night, holding his son while Rose sleeps. When dawn breaks on Sunday, Peeta has fallen asleep on the couch, with Dylan in his arms. It's the first peaceful night Dylan has had for almost a week. There is no thought of going to the Hob. Peeta makes cheese buns for his family.

*     *     *     *

_You didn't come. You promised Ripper. You didn't come. You're a stinking liar._

I'm sorry, Peeta thinks. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

*     *     *     *

**The Revolution, the Baker, and the Mockingjay**

Peeta had been with the Rebels for five months. In that time of hard fighting, the Districts had fallen, one by one. There were many deserters from the Capitol forces. Finally, finally, the Rebel Army had fought its way to the gates of the Capitol. As the rebels neared the Prize, the fighting grew harder. Clearly, the Capitol's loyalist forces were rallying for one last desperate effort.

It was clear to the Rebels that they were facing a long siege, one that might well last through the winter. The advance had already cost thousands of lives. It was also clear that the Capitol had stockpiled great amounts of food and ammunition, hoping the Rebels would eventually bleed themselves out. The Rebel Commander, Finnick, was permitting any rebel who wished to return home to leave. There wasn't enough food to sustain a standing army through the winter.

Peeta did not go home.

He knew Katniss was being tortured. The closer the Rebels got to the Capitol, the more sadistic her captors became. He feared they might not make it in time to save her. He could barely trace her thoughts now. She was unconscious, most of the time. Most likely, drugged.

He was thin, but still strong.

One evening, as the rebels were finishing their scanty dinners, the Commander walked in. "We have a report," Finnick said, "from one of our spies. There is a warren of tunnels beneath the streets of the city. People have been trickling out, day by day. All that's left of the Capitol forces are two battalions."

A feeling of elation spread through the rebels.

"I think we've won," Finnick said.

"Excuse me?" Peeta said. Every head turned in his direction. The rebels knew him only as the quiet baker. He had hardly spoken, all these months of fighting. "They still have the Mockingjay. We have to get her out."

"Of course we'll get her out," Finnick said. "We'll get everyone out. The Capitol WILL fall. It's only a matter of time."

"It's time _she_ doesn't have," Peeta said. "She's dying."

"Well, do you have any ideas about how we should get her out? She's well guarded. The dungeons are in the center of the city. Unless you'd like to lead a suicide mission to get her out before the end of the siege."

"That is exactly what I'm suggesting. A small force of men, using the tunnels. They won't be expecting it. I can find her. We can get her out."

Finnick looked at Peeta. "How will you know where she is? No one's even been inside the dungeons. Our spies say the tunnels were deliberately constructed as a maze. Even if you did make it to the tunnels, you'd likely be wandering around in circles. We're down in numbers already, I can't spare the men."

"I'll do it myself," Peeta said, getting up. "Alone."

A few of the men around Peeta began to argue with him. "It's madness!" said one man.

"No, I'm going," Peeta said. "Give me a good gun. And any ammo you can spare. I'll go tonight."

"You're a brave man, baker," Finnick said. He turned to the other rebels. "Anyone care to help?"

One hand was raised, then another. "All right," Finnick said. "Castor. Pollux. Go with Peeta. And you might as well drink what's left of our liquor. At least, if you die, you'll die drunk and happy."

"Thank you, Commander," Peeta said.

"No, thank _you_ , baker," Finnick said. "And if you do make it out alive, with the Mockingjay, there'll be a monument to your valor in every district in Panem."

 


	18. THE BAKER AND THE MOCKINGJAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, sorry. This is only the 4th, or 5th, or 6th version of this chapter.
> 
> Sorry also for the profanity from Katniss. I could have made it a lot worse, but decided to mute it to be more in line with the overall tone of this story.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading. And I never know whether or not I can continue. But am REALLY happy i got this far with "Baker's Daughter." A story I love dearly.

_Hey, you. Yeah, I mean you. Fucking asshole.  
_

Peeta's eyes snap open.

_You with your perfect wife, your perfect little family. I waited for you! I waited and waited! I pretended I was there to get collard greens and cheese! I wandered around for an hour._

My son was sick, Peeta thinks. Then remembers she can't hear him.

_I shot squirrel after squirrel. About a dozen now. What am I going to do with a dozen dead squirrels? Aaaargh!_

Come by the bakery, Peeta thinks. I'll trade you bread for them. (Peeta, you asshole. She can't hear you!)

He rises on one elbow. Rose mumbles something in her sleep. He knows he has to get up. It's impossible to try and go back to sleep now.

_You're SUCH an asshole. You think you're so noble._

Peeta stands and fumbles his way to the bathroom.

_It's not worth it. You're not worth it.  
_

"Where are you going?" Rose asks. Peeta wonders that she seems fully awake. Like it's not (probably) four in the morning.

Peeta freezes. "I'm thirsty," he finally says. "I'm going to get some water. Go back to sleep."

"Thirsty!" Rose says. She pushes herself upright. Her blue eyes are dark with some unpleasant emotion.

_Grow a spine, asshole._

"Don't fret," Peeta says. "I'm just going down to get the ovens started."

"What time is it?" Rose asks.

"Early," Peeta says. He turns and heads for the stairs.

"Peeta," Rose says. Then, louder: "Peeta!"

"Yes?"

"You're a good husband."

He stops. Turns to face her.

"I don't want you to go."

"I'm just starting the ovens."

"No. You're going to the forest."

"I am not."

"Stop it, Peeta! You are!" Rose buries her face in her hands. "You were supposed to go on Sunday. I was watching you. You dropped the first tray of cheese buns and had to start again. You _never_ do that."

"I dropped the tray of cheese buns so that means I was going to the forest?"

"Csilla overheard you, talking to Ripper." Csilla, married to one of Rose's brothers. Peeta wonders vaguely what Csilla would be doing in the Hob. But in the end, did it matter? He'd known it was dangerous to go to the Hob. Especially after the last time, when he'd asked Greasy Sae about Katniss and the whispers had started. "She said Katniss was right behind you the whole time, just watching you. And Csilla said -- she said that even though you never turned your head, your shoulders tensed. You _knew_ she was there!"

When Peeta doesn't answer, Rose goes on: "It's like the two of you have this thing going on -- inside your heads. Can you read each other's thoughts? Csilla heard you tell Ripper you'd be there every Sunday from now on. And so, I -- I started measuring the rum."

"What?" Peeta says. He's confused.

"Saturday, you still had one whole bottle left. I wanted to see what you would do, what you'd say about going to the Hob. I was just lucky Dylan got that ear infection, I guess."

Peeta's shoulders slump.

"I know you're so good. I knew with Dylan sick, you wouldn't go to the Hob. You were thinking about her, though. I know. I know because you dropped that first tray of cheese buns and had to start over. You've never dropped a tray before."

Peeta comes back to the bed and takes Rose's hands in his.

"Is it just," Rose says, "because you feel sorry for her, because she has no one? I used to think, maybe we all owe her something. After all she's been through . . . the torture . . . "

"We all do owe her something," Peeta says. "But, Rose." Peeta swallows.

_Say it! You love her, and you'll never leave her._

"It's more than that for you. Isn't it?  Isn't it, Peeta? With you, it's -- _desire_." Rose nearly chokes on the word. "You want her. You _crave_ her."

Peeta can't seem to summon the words.

Rose wipes her eyes and gets up. "I've got to check on the children," she says.

 


	19. LOVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katniss reminisces about how/why she fell in love with Peeta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd end with this chapter.
> 
> But I keep adding passages, lol. 
> 
> This is a Katniss chapter. Now we get to see how she gradually fell in love with Peeta. How she found the nerve to tell him she loved him, and how he confessed he had someone back in 12. And how she's slowly building her confidence back up.
> 
> I'm thinking of adding an Epilogue. Stay tuned.

Love is painful, Katniss thinks. She's sitting in her favorite tree. It's the one that lets her look across the meadow, to the town. It's the tree where she sits and dreams about a different future for herself. A future where she can be with the man she loves. Where she can be happy.

Since the Rebellion, her life has been nothing if not painful. Prim died. She shouldn't have died. The details are murky, still. Was it when the Peacekeepers came for Katniss? The last thing Katniss remembers her sister saying is her name, over and over: _Katniss! Katniss! Run!_

Then, shortly after, her mother died too.

Katniss thinks her mother died of a broken heart. Because the daughter she loved more was the one who died.

Now Katniss picks at a scab on the back of her right hand. Her hands are thick with calluses, she doesn't know how she wounded herself. It's on the hand she uses to release her arrows. It must have happened in the fury that came over her when she realized Peeta had broken his promise to Ripper and that he would not be coming that Sunday. Maybe not ever.

Maybe 'furious' was an understatement.

If anyone had asked her, she would have said she had no one but herself to blame. She doesn't know how the baker managed to work his way into her heart. Was it because it was his face she saw first, when she finally awoke from her drugged sleep? Was it because his was the face that told her she was free, that the Capitol had been defeated, that there would be no more torture, no more suffering?

She believed him. That was seven years ago.

They kept her five months in the hospital, it took that long for her to recover from the Capitol's torture. Her fingers and toes were broken; her nose was broken. Her spirit was broken.

"Give her the best doctors," Finnick had instructed the hospital. And they had. But In that time, Peeta was the only one she trusted enough to talk to.

She summoned her courage and confessed her love. He told her there was someone back in 12. She retreated into her shell. As soon as she could, she vanished into the forest, hoping everyone would just forget about her.

Unrequited love is painful. If you give less, they give more. She has to change. She _will_ change. She nods, a new determination settles over her features.

Life is short. Things come and go. _People_ come and go. She knows that better than anyone.

But, against all odds, she is alive. She'll never stop owing the baker. But maybe she owes something to _herself_ as well.

*     *     *     *

It's the second Sunday after Peeta bought the rum, and he's back at the Hob.

What do you know, people whisper, the baker's come. He stands in front of Ripper's stall, chatting. He looks so at ease. Sure it's easy to pick him out. Because of that blonde hair. It sticks out.

"Well, she ain't coming today," Ripper tells Peeta. "Was here last week, though." She gives him a narrow-eyed glare. "Waited for you."

"Ah," Peeta says, getting red. "My son was sick."

"Was he, now?" Ripper says, her face blank. "Sure, that's a pity. What can I help you with? White liquor, maybe?"

*     *     *     *

Katniss decides she is done waiting. She prepares to climb down the tree.

That's when she sees him. Walking slowly across the meadow. Like he knows exactly what he is looking for.

She almost calls out his name but decides to wait for him to come to her. As soon as he's close enough for her to see his face, she gasps. He looks -- lighter? And so young. So like the boy she remembers from long ago. From before the Rebellion, even. The baker's youngest son, who was always sitting by the back door when she came by the bakery to trade.

_Are you all right? Did something happen?_

Peeta looks up at her and thinks, Yes and Yes.

 

NOT THE END NOT THE END NOT THE END

(Thank you for reading. Everlark is all.)


	20. YES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Peeta went back to his house. Rose must have seen him coming; she was waiting for him at the door, the baby balanced on her right hip.

Ripper watches as the two make their way across the Hob: Katniss with her dark braid, Peeta with his golden curls. His hand touches just at the small of her back. They look the picture of domestic bliss. Ripper's lips curl.

Katniss still keeps her eyes down, as if she still can't quite believe it: that the baker is with _her_ now.

This morning, she woke with her head on his arm, his moist breath on the back of her neck.

 _Your wife_ , Peeta, Katniss thought.

Peeta's hold on her tightened instinctively. Even in sleep, he couldn't help protecting her.

*     *     *     *

The first night they were together, Katniss was nervous. She didn't know if he wanted to do anything, they'd been lying together on the bed in her father's cabin, lying there for hours.

Then she heard his voice: "Stop fidgeting."

"Peeta!" she gasped. "I can't. I don't know."

"You don't know what?" Peeta said.

"The ending of the story. Of our story."

"I don't know either," Peeta said.

"But -- Daisy. And -- your son," Katniss said.

"I'll see them tomorrow," Peeta said.

"I hope they're all right," Katniss whispered.

Peeta didn't respond.

"They must hate me," Katniss said.

"They don't," Peeta said.

"And -- what about Rose?"

"Shhh, Katniss," Peeta said. "Go to sleep."

*     *     *     *

The next day, Peeta went back to his house. Rose must have seen him coming; she was waiting for him at the door, the baby balanced on her right hip. In the morning light, she looked pale and fragile. Peeta swallowed but forced himself to meet her gaze.

"You're a fool," Rose said, when Peeta was just a few feet away.

"I miss you. I miss my children," Peeta said.

"And you think I'll let you into the house?"

Peeta briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his voice was hard. "Don't keep me from the children."

A man came into view. Rose's older brother. Peeta stepped back, nodding in cold greeting.

Suddenly, there was a storm of running feet from inside the house, and then Daisy was there. She darted quickly around her mother and raised her arms to Peeta. He picked her up. She buried her face in his shoulder.

"Dad!" she sobbed. "Dad!"

"I'm here," Peeta whispered. "I'm here."

"Mamma says we're moving," Daisy said.

Peeta's grip tightened.

"Daisy!" her mother said, sharply.

Peeta looked at Rose. "Is that true?" he asked.

"You think I'd stay around here?" Rose bit out. "You and her flaunting yourselves around town?"

"We'll keep out of your way," Peeta said.

"Your mother knows, by the way," Rose said.

"Good," Peeta said.

"And what of the bakery? You'd give that up?"

"No," Peeta said.

Rose's only response was a sneer.

*     *     *     *

Peeta wakes with Katniss's head on his arm. Her hair smells musky and damp. He rises on one elbow and strokes her forehead tenderly. He is so filled with tenderness.

Then he feels her tears, falling down her cheeks.

"Katniss," he gasps. "What's wrong?"

"Can I trust this, Peeta?" she whispers. "Can I trust -- us? Is this real?"

Peeta tightens his arms around her and whispers, "Yes."


	21. MOCKINGJAY'S NIGHTMARES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ah!" Snow said, his blood-red lips turning up in a sneer. "You must be the baker!"
> 
> "Out of my way," Peeta gritted out.
> 
> Snow inclined his head and stepped to the side.
> 
> "She's dead, you know," Snow hissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been adding to this chapter -- incrementally. Now there's a scene of Finnick at the end.

_She's in a cell. There's a hand around her throat. She's covered by a mass of writhing bodies. She can't breathe. She tries to grab onto something, anything, and the thing she grabs comes free. Somehow, she recognizes it: a person's arm, detached from a body. She tries to scream but can't. Her exertions only make her sink deeper._

She is still screaming when Peeta wakes her.

Her eyes snap open. Peeta has his arms wrapped around her. Her breathing slows.

They're outside, by the lake. It's still early. Shadowy trees rear up around them. She can still hear the echo of her scream, winding through the forest.

"How often do you get those?" Peeta asks. His voice is clotted with worry.

She swallows. "Not very often," she lies. "It's always the same thing -- I'm back in the Capitol . . . " her voice trails away.

"Those days are long gone, Katniss," Peeta whispers. "We've won. We won."

Have they really? She thinks of that time as a poison, rising and rising in her veins. Snow is dead, she knows that. But the memory of his cold eyes will always be with her. The stench of blood and filth. _Her_ blood. _Her_ filth. She's given up too much.

"Don't _you_ ever dream about it?" she asks.

Peeta tightens his arms around her. He doesn't answer. He doesn't need to.

She moves to get up.

"Katniss," Peeta says.

She looks at him.

"I will never let anyone hurt you again," Peeta says.

She gives him a weak smile.

*     *     *     *

Behind Snow, the palace reared, white stone towers. In his mind, Peeta saw Katniss lying on the floor of her cell. She was very still. She was dressed in nothing but a thin, white shift that barely covered her thighs. What had Snow done to her? For days Peeta had not heard her thoughts. Which could only mean she'd lain like that, unconscious, for all that time.

"And who are you?" Peeta remembers Snow asking, as he rushed up the palace steps.

Peeta wanted nothing more than to kill Snow, then and there. To strangle Snow with his bare hands. Then he remembered the fragility of Katniss's condition. And he decided to deal with Snow later. He needed, at that moment, to run straight through the palace to the dungeons he knew lay beaneath it.

"Ah!" Snow said, his blood-red lips turning up in a sneer. "You must be the baker!"

"Out of my way," Peeta gritted out.

Snow inclined his head and stepped to the side.

"She's dead, you know," Snow hissed.

Peeta swallowed. Instead of responding, he surged forward and broke into a run.

"You're too late!" Snow shouted to Peeta's back.

For a split second, Peeta thought the same. His mental image of Katniss was now obscured by a cloudy wall of red glass. _What did that mean?_ His heart stuttered. He ran down marble hallways, searching frantically for the stairs that would lead him to the subterranean dungeons. He heard muffled echoes: screams, shouts, explosions. Then, sharp, cutting, the whistle of a whip. His right temple stung. His head snapped up. There was a woman before him. Peeta recognized her immediately as Katniss's jailer.

"Out of my way!" Peeta warned.

The woman's answer was to raise the whip again. Peeta pointed his gun and shot. The woman fell, jerking spasmodically on the floor. He stepped over her body, noting with cold detachment the blood spatter on his clothing.

Something told him he must be close to the entrance to the dungeons. Very close. Why else would that woman with the whip try and stop him right here?

Peeta stopped and looked carefully at the wall in front of him. He narrowed his eyes. Unlike the other hallways he had passed, there were no doors here. Judging by the length of her whip, the woman had probably been standing . . .  he walked to a point a few yards to his right and stared again at the wall. He thought he saw something: just the faintest crack in the paint. A long, straight, vertical line, the width of a strand of thread. His fingers moved of their own accord, tracing the crack. The wall swung outward. On the other side was a narrow landing, and beyond that, stairs leading straight down into the gloom. He didn't hesitate.

When he finally found Katniss, and held her broken body, he was sure he could never let her go. She felt light in his arms. Her pulse was very faint, but it was there.

The others came minutes later. Looking at the baker and the woman he held, they were suddenly silenced.

Finnick came, eventually. He was drenched in blood -- others' blood, it turned out -- and there was a look of triumph on his face. He knelt down beside Peeta and said, in a gentle voice, "We'll take care of her, baker. You've done your part. Now you can go home."

"No," Peeta gasped. "I am not leaving her."

Finnick nodded, a look of disquiet in his eyes.

Peeta was next to her bed in the hospital when Katniss finally, finally awoke.

*     *     *     *

His is the first human face she sees. No, not the first human face, the first _kind_ human face she's seen in a long while. Since Prim and her father. So long ago.

She whimpers. The blonde man's brow furrows.

_When the Peacekeepers showed up in the Seam, she knew they had come for her. "Run, Katniss! Run!" she heard Prim scream. She'd been moving fast, but the sound of her sister's scream stopped her in her tracks. She would have eluded the Peacekeepers if not for that._

The blonde man approaches the bed and puts his hand over hers. Oh! He's warm.

"You're going to live, Mockingjay," he says, solemnly.

"Who are you?" Katniss asks, confused. "Are you my doctor?"

"No," the blonde man says, shaking his head. "I'm no doctor. I'm a baker. My name is Peeta."

She tries to sit up but with his right hand Peeta pushes her back gently on her pillows.

"My sister," she explains, looking at him.

He drops his gaze.

She sags, all the life leaking out of her, and closes her eyes.

*     *     *     *

Finnick steps into Katniss's room a few hours later. Katniss is asleep; Peeta's head is resting on his arms, at the foot of her bed.

"Peeta?" Finnick calls, as softly as he can.

Peeta looks up.

Finnick motions him to step outside and Peeta nods. He follows Finnick out, taking a moment to close the door behind him.

"She knows?" Finnick asks.

Peeta nods.

"How'd she take it?"

"How'd you think?" Peeta says. He runs his hand over the back of his neck.

"This will set her back," Finnick says. It's not a question.

The next day, and the next, and the next, and the next, Peeta is still there. In fact, for almost two months, he rarely leaves her side.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this story was ended. But no -- as it happens, I still had a little bit left to write about. Which was probably as much of a surprise to me as it was to any of you.
> 
> And, yeah, flashbacks. Looong flashbacks. But I felt it necessary to show how the foundations for Everlark were laid during the rebellion, seven years earlier.


	22. HAPPY TOGETHER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did you spend your winters here?" he asks.
> 
> Katniss nods. "For the most part."
> 
> Her answer pains him. There are cracks everywhere: on the walls, in the windows. He imagines the wind seeping through those cracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we flip to the present. Peeta has to start building a new life with Katniss. But is he up to it? How often will he have to keep telling himself that she is worth it?
> 
> After several days, I found a way to insert a mention of Daisy. YAY! I feel super-content.

Peeta and Katniss enter her father's old cabin, hands clasped together. The first thing he smells is rot and mildew.

She shrinks instinctively. "What -- what's the matter?" Katniss says.

"Nothing," Peeta says. There is only one chair pulled up to a table that teeters on uneven legs. The fireplace is clotted with ash and the remnants of rags. The windows are rimed with dirt. The door doesn't even close all the way. It hangs a little to the right.

"I'm sorry," Katniss says, quietly. She looks ashamed.

"No!" Peeta says, going up to her and embracing her. "Don't ever do that."

"I know I haven't kept it -- neat," Katniss says. "I just never expected -- to have a guest?"

"Stop it," Peeta says. And because he knows she's just going to keep apologizing, he covers her mouth with his own and tries to tell her with his body that he is happy, that he is happier than he ever expected to be, and that she's given him everything.

*     *     *     *

The next morning, Peeta says: "Let's start with fixing that door." It doesn't take him very long. He tells her he'll tackle the roof next.

"Did you spend your winters here?" he asks.

Katniss nods. "For the most part."

Her answer pains him. There are cracks everywhere: on the walls, in the windows. He imagines the wind seeping through those cracks.

"We'll need a bed," Katniss says, suddenly. "I never needed one before." She's blushing furiously.

Peeta looks at her, half-grinning. "I'll make sure it's sturdy," Peeta says.

"I'll go hunting tomorrow. All right? Sorry again," she says. "You're going to visit Daisy tomorrow? I'll have everything ready by the time you get back."

"I'm going to stop by the Justice Building, too," Peeta says.

"What for?"

"To put in a legal request for divorce."

At the look on Katniss's face, Peeta asks, "What's wrong?"

"Don't you think it's a little -- too soon?"

"It isn't," Peeta says firmly. He gestures between the two of them: "This, us. The sooner people start recognizing that it's real, the better it will be."

"I don't know if -- I -- " Katniss stammers. "I mean -- "

"I know, Katniss, I know," Peeta says, bringing his arms around her. "I know you're anxious and maybe even a little afraid. But we shouldn't hide. From anyone. I was doing that for so many years, and instead of things getting better, they got worse. Much worse. I keep thinking: if I'd been brave enough, when I was with you in the hospital, in the Capitol, we wouldn't have had to go through this. And it would have been much better, all around."

Katniss listens carefully and strokes his cheek. When he is done speaking, she says, "You were always the one, Peeta. You were always so good with words. Thank you for saving me."

Peeta's arms tighten around her. "I should have done it sooner. I blame myself for that. Thank you for -- believing in me."

"And we have to thank Daisy, don't forget," Katniss says.

Peeta's eyes cloud with sadness.

"Peeta, can you bring her to the forest?"

"I don't know if her mother will allow it," Peeta says, shaking his head.

"But -- try, okay, Peeta? I know she'd love it."

Peeta nods, not trusting himself to speak.

*     *     *     *

The bakery stays open because Peeta's father insists. He'd retired, he thought for good. Now, he's back to rising at 4 a.m. Both his other sons married out-of-district and none are willing to return and take up baking duties.

Mrs. Mellark minds the front while her husband bakes.

"My dear!" Mrs. Mellark exclaims one day when Rose enters the bakery.

"I hope it's all right to come unannounced," Rose begins.

Mrs. Mellark hurries to Rose and embraces her. "Don't be silly. Let's go upstairs to the parlor. Bannock! Rose has come for a visit!"

Once Rose is settled in the parlor, Mrs. Mellark takes a good look at her daughter-in-law's face. Rose looks haggard, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. Peeta's mother asks hurriedly, "How are you holding up? Where are the children? Bannock! Bring us some tea!"

 _Not enough, not enough:_ the words ring in Rose's head. "He's with her right now," she says. Her voice breaks.

"What?" Mrs. Mellark clutches at her chest. Mr. Mellark grows pale.

"I haven't seen him in days. He went to the forest."

"What? Did Peeta simply abandon you? Just like that?"

Rose nods. Tears spring to her eyes. But they are not tears of grief. They are tears of anger. "I can't," she whispers through her tears. "I simply can't bear it."

"He is cruel! To you, the mother of his children!"

For a while, there is no sound in the room except for Rose's sniffles. Finally, Mr. Mellark clears his throat. "What would you like us to do?" he asks. "How can we help you? My family will do anything to make this right. You shouldn't have to suffer alone."

Rose wipes her cheeks and raises her eyes. "I don't hate Peeta," she whispers. "I would take him back, if he would admit his injury to me and his children. If he would ask for my forgiveness." She raises her left hand to show Peeta's parents that she still wears her wedding ring. Peeta's parents nod in understanding.

*     *    *     *

After Rose has taken her leave, Peeta's father and mother look at each other.

"Strange woman," Peeta's father murmurs. His face is perplexed.

"Can you blame her?" Peeta's mother hisses. "Peeta has abandoned her! And her son not even a year old!"

"I never thought he loved her," Peeta's father says.

"Love! Who says marriage is about love!" Peeta's mother says, giving her husband a pointed look.

Peeta's father looks away. Instead of answering his wife, he walks quickly out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry -- chapter's getting long. I just got several new ideas and decided to stick them in here, mostly in the first half, in the Katniss and Peeta scenes.
> 
> I thought of stoppng here for a while. Maybe? We shall see.


	23. WHAT PEETA MEANS TO KATNISS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a major brain-wave today. The result is this chapter.
> 
> It's told entirely from Katniss's point of view. A lot of it is her memory of recuperating in the Capitol, after the rebellion.

I remember diagrams of the heart from my long-ago days at school: I remember it was a blob in different shades of red. The artist drew an artery leading from one side.

Those days when I was lying sick in the Capitol, I didn't want to live. Prim was dead. My mother was dead. It had been the three of us for so long. My father was taken by the mines when I was 12. So it was just us three women.

Doctors came, in, out. They said things and made notes on clipboards that I wasn't allowed to see. There was only one person whose words I believed: Peeta.

He was the first person I saw when I opened my eyes in the hospital. I was scared until I looked into his eyes. Then, I never wanted him to go.

I was months in the Capitol. Everyone worked hard to save my life. If they only knew. If they'd only bothered to ask. My life was worth nothing. I never wanted to be rescued. I wasn't worth saving.

But, slowly, slowly, my appetite returned. Peeta fed me. I would only part my lips for him.

"You'll live, Mockingjay." Those were the first words I ever heard him say. When I was in my deepest, blackest moods, all I had to do was remember the look on his face when he said those words, and I'd feel a little spark, somewhere just beneath my ribs. And I knew that came from my heart. My heart was telling me: Listen to the baker. He is good. You can trust him.

I fell in love with Peeta there, in the Capitol. But I couldn't tell him; I couldn't tell anyone. I thought he would be disgusted with me: with my scarred, broken body.

Later, when he told me about Rose, I couldn't understand how she had ever let him go. If he were mine, I would start thinking. But I'd always remind myself: He deserves someone better than me.

So, in the end, I found the strength to give him up. We kissed only once. And that was on the day he left the Capitol to return to 12, so he could plan his wedding. _You are my heart_ , I remember thinking. But I couldn't say it aloud.

His daughter -- the day she wandered into the forest. Something told me who she was, even before she told me. It had been years since Peeta and I had spoken. We saw each other sometimes, maybe three or four times a year, and always by accident. Each time, a little spark would go off again in my chest. And the look in his eyes -- I wondered if he felt the same? But we always looked away from each other in the end.

Of course, Rose was beautiful. One day, as I was passing in front of the bakery, on my way to somewhere, she came running out, a basket of cheese buns in her arms. She thrust the basket at me. "For you," she said. "For what you suffered." I didn't want to take the basket. I was too shocked to speak. I stared. Then she stepped back. My face was flaming red. I glanced quickly at the bakery window, I'm not sure why. And he was there. Right there. Staring straight at me.

I was filled with shame and self-loathing. I wished I could have left the basket right there on the street. But I walked away, still with that basket in my arms. The first house I came to, I walked right up to the front door and left the basket there. I don't know whose house it was. Some Merchant. Then I fled to the forest. It was almost a year before I felt brave enough to venture into town again.

She was just trying to be nice. But she ended up making me feel so terribly small.

The day when Peeta came to me, I thought I was dreaming. I saw him walking purposefully across the meadow. Sort of the way he walked the second time Daisy ran to the forest. But this time, he wasn't chasing Daisy. And when he said the words I'd been feeling for so long, I couldn't stop touching his face, his hair, his arms.

That night, and every moment since, I've been filled with such happiness.

I also knew that I owed a big debt to one other person, and that was to Peeta's daughter. I vowed that I would never stop fighting for her, I would fight for her to my last breath.

For days and days and days I can't think of anything but her little face, bathed in tears. So many times, I'm tempted to go into town and ask about her. But Peeta says I shouldn't. He says it will only make Rose mad, and she will be mean to Daisy (As if she isn't already. I _know_.) I know I'm not exactly mother material, but I know that little girl deserves to be with Peeta. Because she deserves the best. And her father _IS_ the best.


	24. EGGS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am adding to this story little by little, and as inspiration strikes.
> 
> I welcome your thoughts!

Katniss is trying to cook an egg.

She's trying. Daisy watches her from the table, her little face scrunched up. Peeta is -- somewhere. Katniss sent him away because he was making her nervous, clucking over her first attempts.

The first two eggs crack. Katniss curses, then turns red when she realizes Daisy is there. "I'm sorry," she says quickly, not daring to look at the little girl.

"It's okay," Daisy says. "We can throw a funeral for them."

This makes Katniss turn in amusement. But Daisy's being perfectly serious.

"Don't worry, Katniss," Daisy says. "My mom cracks eggs all the time. Dad, too."

Katniss's shoulders tense at the mention of Daisy's Mom. But she keeps her tone light when she says, "Right. Let's have the funeral this afternoon."

Daisy jumps up excitedly. "I'll go collect flowers. Can't have a funeral without flowers."

She runs out the door. Katniss hears her talking excitedly to Peeta. Then, the two wander off together.

When they come back, Katniss has managed three omelettes. They're sitting on plates at the table. They've gone slightly cold, but Peeta insists they are delicious. Daisy nods her head in agreement.

That night, after they've delivered Daisy home, Katniss says, "I love Daisy."

Peeta says, "I know you do."

Katniss says, "I wish we could have her here more."

Peeta is silent. He wishes the same, but if he says his wishes aloud, they won't come true. It's an old superstition from his childhood, but he isn't taking any chances.

"When did she attend a funeral?" Katniss asks. She and Daisy and Peeta had dug a small hole, a few yards from the cabin. Daisy tenderly placed the cracked eggs in the ground. She helped scoop in the dirt to cover them. Then, she scattered dandelions and insisted on saying a short prayer.

Peeta twists uneasily at Katniss's question. Finally, he says, "A few years ago."

"Whose?" Katniss asks.

"Her brother," Peeta says.

Katniss gasps. "Her brother? Your son?"

He nods and swallows. "He died shortly after birth. There were so many things wrong with him. I was able to hold him for a little while, at least."

"Oh," Katniss says. Then again, "Oh." She pictures it in her mind: the small family, sobbing over a small grave. Her heart aches. She clutches Peeta to her. "That's terrible." She buries her head in Peeta's shoulder, trying to erase the images.

"I try and visit the grave as often as I can, but Rose won't go near it. She doesn't want to remember."

"Does Daisy go with you?" Katniss asks.

"Sometimes. She tries to cheer me up but, well -- " Peeta's vision blurs.

"I'll go with you next time," Katniss murmurs. To her surprise, when she looks up at Peeta's face to gauge his response to her words, he doesn't look very happy. But it is important, Katniss decides, that she see his son's grave. Important enough for her to insist.

 _Oh Peeta_ , Katniss thinks, as she strokes his hair gently. _Don't you know I want to know everything about you? The bad and the good, it doesn't matter. I want to know everything._

_*     *     *     *_

One day, Peeta goes to fetch Daisy, but he comes back alone. Katniss sees him crossing the meadow, utterly dejected. She runs.

"What is it? What's wrong?" she almost screams.

"Rose's brothers are there. There's a family gathering. They say to come back tomorrow."

"Did you see her at least?"

"Yeah, she was at the top of the stairs, too scared to come down."

Katniss's ears are ringing. She looks more closely at Peeta. His face is angry.

"Oh, no," she begins. "You didn't say anything -- to the brothers."

"No." Peeta shakes his head.

"Don't ever let them goad you," Katniss says.

"I know," Peeta says.

"If they want to pick a fight, don't give them a reason to,"

"I know, Katniss. You don't have to tell me," Peeta grits out.

 


	25. KATNISS EXPLAINS NOT WANTING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Katniss point of view chapter. This one's about what it was like for her, growing up in the Seam.
> 
> Did this one really fast. I'm on a roll!
> 
> Thank you for following along as I unfold this universe! And thank you, of course, to Suzanne Collins, for giving us such fantastic characters to work with.

I wanted Peeta. I never thought I could have him.

Growing up in the Seam, I saw the kind of marriages people had. Walls were thin, houses were squashed up right next to each other, and voices were loud. I knew what my parents had wasn't the norm. There were few happy families. I figured, poverty isn't really conducive to happiness. And everyone in the Seam is desperately poor.

Everyone in the Seam was used to having just one meal a day. And, when the mines shut down because of an accident, sometimes not even that. In lean times, we lived on a diet of grass and water. Famished, we slipped on the always muddy, sometimes ice-frozen lanes that led across the Seam and straight to the mines.

I guess there were a few boys that liked me; I never gave them more than a passing thought. I never thought I'd have a husband. No, what I mean is, I never _wanted_ to have a husband. There was a reason my father taught me to hunt; he never wanted me to depend on anyone, he never wanted me to feel that I had to marry someone in order to survive.

I was beaten within an inch of my life in the Capitol. But what really broke me was afterward: knowing everyone in my family was dead.

Now, thanks to Peeta, I have a family. Or almost a family. His daughter is the most beautiful thing in the world, next to Peeta.

The last time she came was two weeks ago. I saw her legs were scrawny and her dress was too short. It's getting cooler now. She'll need warmer things.

Peeta laughs at the changes in me. The other day, he saw me trying to make a dress for Daisy and I kept pricking my fingers with the needle. It was awful.

I keep asking him questions. Sometimes I thinks he is sick of my questions, but he keeps on answering them.

Once I ask him what it was like, growing up in a bakery.

"The work was heavy," Peeta says, then stops.

"What do you mean 'heavy.' "

"Well," Peeta says, slowly, hesitantly. "I used to ache all over at the end of the day. That's what I meant by 'heavy.' "

"Oh," I say. I always thought a Merchant's life was easy. I used to envy Merchants, especially during winter when the wind blew cruelly through the walls and windows of my family's small home in the Seam.

"At the end of each day, Mom insisted that we rinse all the counters with a round of soap. We'd throw water on the floor in buckets and push it into drains on the floor."

"Hmmm," I say. That sounds like really hard work, even to me.

"And, what did you think? I had holes in my shoes, too."

"What?" I gasp. "But you were Merchant!"

"Yeah, but my Mom held on to every penny like it was life itself. I knew my Dad felt bad about how we lived. I used to try and make the soles of my shoes fall off, so that she couldn't put off getting me a new pair. And you know how kitchen work is -- you can't go a day without burning something or dropping something. If any of us did, we'd be sent straight to bed without our supper."

*     *     *     *

One day, I convince Peeta that he has to talk to his parents. I know he misses the bakery, too. It was hard work, but it's in his blood. If he doesn't have his hands buried in dough, he seems -- to me, anyway -- a little lost, a little dreamy.

I know he loves me. I know that with such a certainty it almost scares me. But baking is something he needs. So I tell him to go, talk to his parents, and tell them he wants to go back to baking.

He leaves, and he's gone a full five hours. I try and convince myself it must be a good sign, but I know it isn't.

When I see him approching across the meadow, I almost cry with relief. He tells me he'll be working at the bakery, his parents agreed that they do need his help.

"But," he says, and hesitates.

I knows what he is about to say. I don't know how I know, but I do.

"But," he says again. "Rose is there a lot."

*     *     *     *

We decide that he'll start working every day at the bakery, at least until he or his parents can afford to hire more help. He puts off the official start for two days, just for a chance to be quiet with me. We kiss a lot. The night before his first day at the bakery, I'm nervous; we make love with uncommon ardor. I know what he's trying to say, with every stroke of his tongue and his hands and his hips. "Katniss," he moans into my neck, and I know what he is trying to say. Only a few hours later, he rises to go. "Baker's hours," he shrugs. He starts across the meadow. It's just getting light. I see him turn his head to look back at me -- once, twice, three times. Then he's gone.

When he returns that evening, he smells of cinnamon, and dill, and sweat -- all good things. We wrap our arms around each other, neither of us able to speak, the relief is so overwhelming.

"Will you come out with me tomorrow?" he asks. "I want them to see you -- _us_."

I'm afraid, but I say immediately, "I will. Of course I will."

I start to cry.

Peeta pulls back. "Why are you -- ?"

"I don't know," I say. "I don't know why. I'm okay with it, though. Don't worry."

 

 


	26. THE BAKERY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry, I accidentally posted Chapter 27, just the opening sentence, then realized after a while that I hadn't yet posted Chapter 26! 
> 
> Sorry for the confusion. This is what happens when I'm in a rush.
> 
> As always, I welcome your feedback! Just to reassure myself I'm on the right track with this story.

Peeta's mother is at the counter when Rose walks in.

"How are you, my dear?" she greets the young woman.

"I'm fine," Rose says. "Is Peeta here?"

"Yes, in the back. I'll just fetch him for you."

"Oh, no need, no need," Rose says. "I just want a quick word."

Peeta's mother understands. She gives Rose a small nod.

"Thank you," Rose says. She's about to go in back when she stops and remembers something. "I promised Daisy I'd bring her by to see her Daddy. Is that okay?"

Peeta's mother says, "Of course!" She adds, for good measure. "And don't feel you have to rush out of here. Peeta's just baking. I can always call Bannock, if the need arises. I know you two have a lot to talk about."

Rose gives a small nod and disappears in the back.

*     *     *     *

That afternoon, Rose returns to the bakery with Daisy. Peeta and his mother are at the front. The bakery is empty of customers. Rose pushes the front door open and hears Peeta say, "No!" to his mother, in a firm voice. Have they been arguing?

Daisy calls out, "Dad!" and Peeta turns quickly away from his mother.

"There she is!" Peeta says happily, when his eyes land on Daisy. Daisy runs to Peeta and flings her arms around his waist. Peeta laughs and bends down. His smile is so big that his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"Guess what I have!" he says.

"A cookie!" Daisy says immediately.

"But, which one?" Peeta asks.

Daisy lets her eyes graze the counter. Everything looks good. She points at a cookie with green frosting. It reminds her of Katniss. "That one," she tells her father.

Peeta's eyes glint. He goes behind the counter, grabs two of the cookies, folds a paper napkin around them, and hands them to his daughter.

He's aware that Rose is watching them through narrowed eyes. "How are things, Peeta?" Rose asks.

Peeta doesn't look up. "Things are fine," he says, continuing to smile at his daughter.

"I can bring her every day after school," Rose says. "Wouldn't you like that, Daisy?"

Father and daughter look at each other. Daisy nods, solemnly. Peeta feels his heart catch. He hugs his daughter again and then, very softly, whispers into her ear, "How's your brother?"

Daisy nods vigorously and says, "He's almost walking."

Rose steps closer and Peeta stands. "How long can she stay?" he asks, still with his eyes fixed on his daughter.

"Well, she brought her homework. I told her she could do it here, with you. If it's not too much trouble," Rose says.

"It's not too much trouble," Peeta says softly, finally meeting Rose's eyes.

"Peeta," Rose says. And at the saying of his name, a strange heat flows through her. "Next Sunday -- "

There's a shift in his gaze. A wariness. Rose swallows. "We're having some of Daisy's friends over. It would be so nice if you could -- bake them some special treats. And . . .  drop them by. In the afternoon?"

Peeta nods. His gaze is down at his daughter again. "Sure," he says softly. "Of course."


	27. THE BAKER'S HOURS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry. I should never try and post when I'm away from my regular computer. Which is what happened today. So THIS chapter got posted ahead of Chapter 26.
> 
> AND I hadn't written it yet. All I had was the first sentence, LOL!
> 
> But since that first sentence was already posted, I decided not to change it, just to roll with it. So here you go! Baker Peeta's musings.
> 
> (P.S. I'm still not happy with it, so I'll keep tweaking the order of Peeta's memories. The content won't change, but the sequence of information will, until I'm happy with it)

Katniss asks me sometimes if something is troubling me. "Things going okay?" she asks.

Bakery hours are long and grueling. But I welcome it. I welcome that the work is heavy.

Yes, it's guilt. I don't tell her this.

As far as I can tell, Rose still wants me back.

She lets me know in subtle ways.

Well, subtle for her, anyway.

She was the first woman I ever slept with. She told me she wanted me. I was sixteen, a shy boy who came to school with bruises and the memory of his mother's taunts. I threw everything I had into wrestling. It gave me an excuse to spend longer hours at school.

Whatever, Rose saw someone worth desiring, someone worth having.

And that was all it took, really.

Simple, isn't it?

I can't deny how, as a sixteen-year-old boy I was very, very interested in her body.

*     *     *     *

I didn't always have this . . .  thing: this being able to enter Katniss's thoughts. 

It started slowly: the flutter of an eyelid against my chest, there was this . . .  thing. Very quick, like a tremor. Small, at first. Then, larger and more vivid. I knew the girl was Seam, but I didn't have much else to go on.

Then, one day, early, while I was starting up the ovens, I heard her voice speaking so clearly, inside my head:  _How beautiful._

She kept speaking:  _Everything in flower. Look at those little bright things. Look at that, looks like a star, blooming among the rocks._

I closed my eyes. Maybe I started to fall in love with her then. For a moment, I forgot everything. I was in the forest, with _her_.

All that day I kept going outside, looking towards the forest. I kept checking. Then, in the afternoon, I saw her. A girl with dark hair in a long braid reaching halfway down her back.

I knew it was her. Yes.

She never looked up.

*     *     *     *

After, when I went off to fight in the Rebellion, Rose screamed and cried, went down on her knees, begged me. But it was something I had to do. The Capitol dredged her up from 12 and sought to make an example of her. I said to myself, It's not right. When they took her, I could hear her in my head shrieking, NO NO NO! Or maybe it was myself shrieking. It was hard to tell, those days.

I knew I had to go. I had to join the Rebellion. I had to help rescue her.

After the Rebellion, Rose expected me to come right home.

She said, We'll walk together to the Justice Building to get the marriage license. Doesn't it feel like destiny?

It's funny, it wasn't destiny.

The destiny was right in front of me, lying on a hospital bed. It was Katniss.

From time to time, I'd call, and Rose would ask, in a cheerful voice, "How is she? Is she getting any better? Will you be home soon?"

I kept saying, "No, it will take some time."

Rose would say, disbelieving, "Same as ever?"

"Yes," I'd say. "Same as ever."

Then came a day when Rose asked me the usual question and I said, heart heavy, "She's good."

Rose gasped and her voice became teary. "So this means you're coming home?"

I said, "I suppose."

I went home.

Funny, but even after Rose and I were married, I kept one small thing from Katniss. It was her Mockingjay pin.

Some part of me kept hoping I would see her when she came back to 12. She came, and she disappeared right into the forest.

*     *     *     *

This time spent at the bakery is different than before: it's stressful, I'm tense, little currents of innuendo float from my mother's mouth. Rose comes with the children.

Katniss is lonely. I see her in the forest. I don't know how to comfort her.

Whenever I enter the bakery, I feel like someone else. I think of those Capitol entertainments they used to call "movies." I feel like I'm in one of them right now, and the scene never changes: there are always the same characters. Me, my mother, my father, Rose, Daisy and Dylan. It doesn't sound like a very good movie.

*     *     *     *

I step outside, needing a break from the hot kitchen. It's mid-Autumn, and everyone's preparing for the Harvest Festival. I think of bringing Katniss, of us walking hand in hand, of having her to dance with. I imagine myself holding her, the two of us swaying from side to side with the music, her head resting on my shoulder.

I shake my head, to clear them of my fantasies.

Rose is so quiet behind me, I don't even know she's there until I turn to head back inside. I have a spasm of . . . I'm not sure what. Anxiety? Remorse?

I give her a tight smile and walk past her, never breaking my stride. I can feel her eyes though, on my back. My heartbeat picks up. I don't feel truly safe until I have the back door between us.

 


	28. HARVEST FESTIVAL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this isn't too short. I threw in a scene of Peeta anticipating the Harvest Festival at the end of the previous chapter. I felt, why not give Everlark a break, let them enjoy themselves, see what happens.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it.

Peeta fusses at me to hurry up. Finally, I say I'm ready; he practically pulls me out the door. My stomach's all tied up in knots; Peeta keeps a firm grip on my hand, as if he knows how ready I am to bolt and run.

I almost slip when I hear the music. It's just so -- loud. Everything thrumming through me. Peeta slows, but doesn't come to a full stop. I glance at his face but can't tell what he's thinking. _Fuck this_ , I think, and get ready to dig in my heels.

But I am surprised when he chooses that very moment to pick up the pace.

I made sure I washed my hair this afternoon, so it was nice and fresh-smelling, but I've been sweating ever since. I can feel damp tendrils of hair sticking to the back of my neck. I decided to wear my usual braid, but perhaps I didn't braid as carefully as I usually do, because strands have come loose.

When we get a little closer, I hear a band strike up. Oh! It’s not just the first Harvest Festival I’ve attended with him. It’s my first Harvest Festival, _ever_. Does Peeta know this?

"Peeta, hold on," I whisper.

"What?" he says, almost impatient.

The music's making me dizzy. It has such -- an edge to it. What is this song? It doesn't matter.

"Peeta," I try again. "I suck at this. I mean, with _people_. I'm not good." I seem to hardly make sense, even to myself.

"No, Katniss," he says firmly. "We are going. There's no turning back."

Suddenly, everything's shaking. The ground, my breath, the air itself. Moments later, I realize it's the sound of stomping feet. _A lot_ of stomping feet. People are stomping in time to the music.

A guitar rises up, riffing a familiar melody. My skin has broken out in goosebumps.

"This feels right, Katniss," Peeta says. "Doesn't this feel right to you?"

I hold on to him. I'm so dizzy. I'm spinning. I'm falling.

"Isn't this great? The music? Just enjoy it, Katniss. Please."

"Okay, Peeta," I whisper.

"And as for people -- ignore them. I'm the only one who counts. Right?"

"Right," I say.

"And you love me, right?"

"I do."

"Then let's go, Katniss. What are you waiting for?"

When we get close enough to see the stage, Peeta suddenly hands me something in a cup. I look at him suspiciously but he just shrugs. He's already taken a healthy swallow of whatever it is. I put my nose down and smell something strong and unfamiliar. The fumes are so strong they're practically intoxicating.

"Peeta, is this what I think it is -- ?"

"Drink," he says. His face is a little flushed.

I swallow. My tongue burns. My throat burns. I almost spit it out.

Peeta grins at me. "Give it a little time. That'll help you get ready to dance."

Dance? Did Peeta just say _dance_?

Half an hour later, we _are_ dancing. I'm laughing, I'm spinning, I'm crying. I just don't care. My head feels as if it's in the clouds and Peeta is holding me. Then, Peeta's hands are on my face and Oh! His hands are so warm. Suddenly, he's kissing me. Right in front of all those people, he's kissing me.

When I break away, just to breathe, I look up at the face of this man, this man who dared to love me. And oh! The look of quiet attention. Peeta's face is a thing of beauty.


	29. SIGNS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A big discovery, and Katniss remembers her father and the days leading up to her imprisonment in the Capitol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was only going to be a matter of time . . . 
> 
> I wrote this really quick. So if anyone spots typos or plot inconsistencies or ANYTHING, please let me know and I'll fix it.
> 
> I welcome all comments.

I wake up the day after the Harvest Festival, puking my brains out. Maybe from dancing too much?

Over the next couple of weeks, the nausea doesn't go away. I keep asking Peeta to bring me salty crackers. He gives me a strange look. But he never forgets to bring some when he gets home from the bakery.

Then, it's soup. I want soup, soup, soup. The saltier the better.

And then, my appetite just goes wild. I've always been a healthy eater. Growing up poor, you crave food almost as much as you crave security. But this appetite is different. After dinner, I'm hungry again. I crave more.

There's something wrong with my digestion.

I want sweets.

One day, Peeta says, You know, Katniss. I think you might be . . . pregnant.

The world spins.

"I mean," Peeta says slowly, "I know the signs."

I can hear my heart beating in that moment. It skips a beat, then becomes fast again. I have to sit down.

"Oh," I say. Then again, "Oh."

And then comes the doubting. What kind of a mother am I going to be?

"Relax," Peeta says. He is always telling me to relax. "It's normal. You're going to be okay. Breathe."

Sometimes, I get so irritated that I snap, "Shut up."

Peeta will say, "Katniss. Stop this. Stop being so afraid. Just enjoy the experience. I'm going to spoil you rotten."

My chest hurts. I can't imagine a tiny thing growing inside me. But I also can't wait to hear its heart beat, to know what sounds it will make.

Peeta comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me. He buries his face in my hair. His large, warm hands cup my belly, as if he can already feel the new life rooting there.

He is tender with me now. At night, he brushes my hair with his hands. I love the feeling.

"I hope," I whisper, as I lean back into Peeta's embrace, "that our baby has your eyes."

Sometimes I think: This can't be happening, it's a dream. I'm not here with Peeta, I'm back in my cell in the Capitol, my eyes aching in the darkness.

But, _not real_ , _not real_ , Peeta tells me, when I wake from a nightmare.

Everyone left, but not Peeta. I cling to him and cry.

*     *     *     *

My father died when I was 12. And then I spent the next 10 years looking for fragments of him or trying to _become_ him.

He is the father who vanished in the mines, who left me, Prim and my mother during one of the coldest winters ever.

My mother refused to accept his absence. She kept all his clothes, and sometimes, late at night, we'd see her press her nose to his rough work pants, his dark blue shirts with the frayed cuffs.

I have my father's old hunting jacket. It smells of him, still: a smell of woods and sweat. A smell of freedom.

When my father disappeared, an official from the mines came to see my mother. A very tall man, pale skin, long brown hair. Prim stayed in our bedroom, curled up under a blanket. But I sat beside my mother and listened. He explained about insurance and benefits. Then, just before he stood up to go, he reached into his big canvas pouch and pulled out a small teddy bear. "For Prim," he said.

My mother stared at it. She didn't move. It was I who stretched my hand out.

And then the man was gone, and we never saw anyone from the mines, ever again.

When I gave Prim the teddy bear, she crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. I didn't understand. I thought she'd be pleased at the gift. Later, it disappeared from our room. Prim must have thrown it out, I'm still not sure why.

The funeral -- what was it like? This is what I remember: The mine paid for a casket. Prim and I hunted for wildflowers. I wrote my father a note, and had Prim sign it with me. We put it on top of the casket. And then my father was lowered into the ground.

And then my mother checked out. I mean, completely checked out. She never cooked, or cleaned, or spoke to anyone.

Every day I felt my stomach becoming more and more hollow. A month after my father disappeared, I picked up my bow and arrow and headed into the woods.

The first animal I saw was a squirrel. I felt my hands shake as I lifted my bow and nocked the arrow. I imagined my father there beside me, his body massive and solid. "Steady, girl," I heard him say. My arms steadied. I stopped breathing. I let the arrow fly.

That night, we ate. The feeling of satisfaction and relief was so strong. And that was why, even though I knew it was dangerous, I kept going into the forest.

You can survive anything. Did you know that? Even heartbreak.

*     *     *     *

The day the Capitol got me. I suppose they'd known about my hunting for years, but it never seemed to bother them much. I don't know what happened, why things changed, why Katniss Everdeen suddenly became a thorn in their sides. But it happened.

One Saturday, I was walking back from the forest with my haul of two rabbits and a squirrel, when I saw the Peacekeepers. Everything -- including my heart -- stopped. I saw them enter shack after shack. There was the sound of cursing and the sound of crashing bottles and crockery. And then they began tossing things out of windows. I began trembling all over. I couldn't move.

It all happened in really, really slow motion. They entered our house. I heard Prim scream my name. Something must have happened because she stopped, suddenly. _No, no, no, no._ And that was how the Peacekeepers got me. That was how I was taken to the Capitol. That was how I met Snow.

Peeta tells me I am the reason he joined the Rebellion. "I wanted to help rescue the Mockingjay," he said.

I asked him, Why. Because who does that kind of thing.

He said it just felt like the right thing to do.

Why didn't he and Rose just get married? Why'd he have to join the Rebellion? Maybe I'd be dead. But his whole life would have been so much simpler.

That's when I see a flash of something -- anger? -- deep in his blue eyes. Everyone says blue eyes are cold, like ice. But not Peeta's. His eyes flash and burn. It's the strangest thing.

 

 

 


	30. BECOMING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The worst part was the not knowing. The worst part was worrying about what was going to happen next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just riffing here.
> 
> This chapter is about Katniss's memories of meeting Snow (which she's been trying to suppress), and how Peeta helps her through it.

You know the expression, "Pale as a ghost?" That's how Snow was. While he was speaking, he held his right hand up to cover his mouth.

I really wished Prim or my mother were with me, then I wouldn't have to endure any of this alone. But right away I knew how selfish that was. If anyone needed to be punished, it was me. I told myself I could endure anything, as long as Prim and my mother got to live.

They put chains around my ankles and led me to a cell. And I never saw outside anymore.

The worst part was the not knowing. The worst part was worrying about what was going to happen next.

I don't really like to remember too much, but Peeta says I have to. He says he'll always be there to catch me when things get hard. It's better for the baby, you know? The feelings have to come out. "It's better," Peeta says, "to have the feelings come out now."

He says having a baby is an intensely emotional experience. He says you have to be brave, because emotions are tricky things, especially if you don't know how to handle them. Whatever you're used to feeling in normal life gets doubled. If you feel anger, you'll feel twice as angry. If you feel sad, you'll feel twice as sad. The important thing is, Peeta says, to remain open to life. Not to let it scare you.

He says his mother had a lot of feelings. But she never let them out. She couldn't. And when feelings don't come out, they get twisted. Now, his mother's just an angry, bitter person. She blames her children -- Peeta especially -- for a lot of things. I hope she doesn't take any of her anger out on my child. I promise I will never let her come near her or him.

Peeta says she's okay with Daisy and Dylan. Maybe she learned something about want. About how you can want and want and never be filled up. How you can throw your life away like that. Maybe his mother is trying to become better. Maybe she's tired of throwing her life away.

I think about those things a lot now. Especially what Peeta told me about his mother. About how she's trying to change.

But she's still doing it for herself. To save herself.

Peeta is so different. He changed for _me_. To save _me_.

I look at him and wonder, "How do you do it, Peeta? Just -- how?"

He just gives me that sweet smile of his. I know I could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him.

Now I have conversations with my father where I tell him: Guess what, you're going to be a grandfather.

I close my eyes and breathe slowly. In, out. In, out. Just like Peeta taught me.

I don't know exactly how far along I am. It would be nice to have the baby in the summer. Peeta smiles when I talk like that. He says, just lie in all winter. I'll take care of everything.

I can't imagine letting him do everything. He does too much already.

I'm afraid, now, of going into town. I think people will stare and start to talk. I hate that Peeta has to work such long hours in the bakery. I never think of Rose. He must see her a lot, but he never talks about her. Instead, when he returns home, he's always laden with gifts: bread he's baked himself, soup (I don't know how he finds the time to make it), and sweets.

"I love that you like to eat," Peeta tells me.

"You're a big, fat liar, Peeta Mellark," I tell him. "You just want to fatten me up so I can't ever run away from you."

Peeta grins. "Ouch!" he says. "I didn't know I was that obvious."

I lean across the table and kiss him. "I'm a hunter, remember? I notice everything. Especially when it comes to you."

After dinner, he reaches down and places my feet on his lap and rubs them.

I think: Why would I run? Where would I go? Every day I lie in our little cabin, waiting for my heart to come home.


	31. WHEN PEETA'S MOTHER SPEAKS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The everlasting angst that is Peeta and his mother . . .
> 
> There's a lot of flashbacks in this one, hope it's not too confusing.

"I'm not going to fight with you today, Mother," Peeta says.

"Oh? I thought I'd just share what everyone in Town seems to be saying," his mother says.

"Whatever cruel things they say about Katniss, it's a lie. And I'm tired of listening to you insult her."

"It's a little late in the day to be defending your woman's reputation, isn't it, Peeta? It's a crime, what you and she did to poor Rose. But I forget that this is the new Peeta, the Peeta who only looks out for Number One."

Peeta inhales sharply. His thoughts race. He wants to tell his mother that he knows he is a coward. Not about Rose, but about why he hasn't yet told anyone that Katniss is carrying his child. "I need a moment," Peeta says curtly, and steps out the back door of the bakery.

His father had to go to the train to pick up fresh supplies for the bakery. Peeta volunteered to do it, but there was a wedding cake due to be delivered that afternoon, and the bride stipulated she wanted Peeta to do the design. Everyone knows how good he is, how he can make castles out of spun sugar, waves from frosted icing, marzipan bears, chocolate deer.

No sooner was his father out the door than Peeta's mother began making spiteful comments about Katniss. He should be used to it by now. After all, it's been going on for years. But, today -- Peeta bites his lip. He thinks, _Fuck, I could use a drink_.

*     *     *     *

_Peeta's first drink. He was 12 years old. He caught Rye and Sam passing the bottle back and forth between them, in an alley a few yards away from the bakery. In return for his silence, his brothers let him have a sip. He watched avidly as his brothers handed over the bottle._

_The taste of the white liquor was harsh and bitter. He felt like spitting most of it out. But he forced himself to swallow._

_*     *     *     *_

In the distance, he sees his father returning. He's hired some boys to carry the bags of flour. His father looks anxious. The look only seems to intensify when he notices Peeta standing outside.

"Everything all right, son?" Peeta's father says.

"Yeah," Peeta says. It's an automatic response. Peeta never has to think about it. He even follows the lie with a weak smile.

To his surprise, his father reaches out and grabs his shoulder. Before he can say anything, however, Peeta's mother is right there. "Took you long enough," she sneers.

"Put the flour right inside the door, boys," Peeta's father says. The three boys who've been helping him nod and do as he instructed. No one wants to hang around when Peeta's mother is watching.

Peeta turns to go back inside and continue working. He's surprised when his father holds him back, putting a hand on Peeta's right shoulder. Peeta turns and looks at his father. His father smiles. Though they don't exchange a word, Peeta's heart feels lighter.

The rest of the afternoon unfolds without further unpleasantness.

Rose comes by with Daisy and Dylan, at the usual time. He's waiting for them at the front of the store; his daughter runs to him.

"I got a book, Daddy!" his daughter says. "I want to read it to you!"

Peeta laughs. Rose puts Dylan on the ground and the toddler starts to walk towards Peeta, on unsteady legs. Peeta bends down and holds his arms wide. Dylan falls into them. "Such a big boy!" Peeta says happily. The boy chortles happily.

When Peeta looks up at Rose, he sees a familiar expression in her eyes. Her golden hair is piled high on her head. She doesn't usually wear it that way, Peeta wonders idly if she's going somewhere after. 

*     *     *     *

_The annual school dance._

_Before leaving his house, Rye pressed a bottle into his hand. "You look nervous, little brother," Rye said. "Drink." It did help._

_He entered the school gym, where the dance was being held, and nearly turned around. The girls were seated along one side, tittering and giggling. Watching. He felt their eyes, raking over him._

_The first girl he had the courage to approach was Delly. She was wearing a tight top that accentuated her curves. She was wearing heavy make-up. Her lipstick was a deep scarlet. Most of it ended up on his cheek, later. As they danced, he couldn't help feeling excited at the way she pressed her breasts into his chest._

_But another girl had caught his eye that night: she was sitting a little to the side. He noted her vivid, blue-green eyes. Her slim figure. A boy sat next to her all night, trying to nuzzle into her neck. She laughed, but her eyes were trained on Peeta's, every time he passed. Peeta watched as the boy grabbed Rose's leg. She stood quickly, her cheeks flaming._

_Ten months later came the Rebellion. There was the voice in Peeta's head telling him to join. There was a promise to Rose about after he came home. There were the broken conversations, Rose's fear and anger and sadness. There were the promises to the Mockingjay, that he would stay by her side through her recovery. And then there was his coming home, and the biggest wedding ever (people said) to be held in 12, not counting the wedding of the Mayor's daughter, Madge, to one of the Cartwright boys._

_He broke Katniss's heart, he knew it. But he also knew she was stronger than Rose, and that she would survive._

*     *     *     *

"Let's go in the back," Peeta tells Daisy. "You can read it to me while I finish working on this wedding cake."

"Are you sure she won't be in your way?" Rose says, coldly.

Peeta fixes her with a stare. "I'm sure."

Rose hangs on to Dylan and Peeta goes in the back with Daisy.

"A boy pulled my hair today, Daddy," Daisy says.

"What? Which boy?" Peeta asks, feeling a flare of anger.

"Oh, just some boy," Daisy says. "I don't like him."

Strange but, at that moment, something about Daisy reminds Peeta so much of Rose.

He tries not to listen to the conversation taking place between his mother and Rose out front.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so happy every time I can write a scene that has Daisy in it. Seriously.
> 
> And Peeta's younger child, Dylan, is beginning to walk.
> 
> I worry sometimes that the story is getting too angst-y, and I should just stop before I fall off a cliff . . .


	32. PRIM AND LOVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I hadn't written much about Katniss's memories of Prim. So here you are, memories of Prim, the sister Katniss loved almost like a daughter.
> 
> Katniss's memories are all coming to the surface since she's been with Peeta. She couldn't let herself feel before. But with Peeta to be her rock, she is looking back more and more.

The dreams are back.

They're bad as ever. No, worse. Because these include Prim. The sister who was more like a daughter to me. The sister I lost during the Rebellion, I still don't know how.

She would have loved knowing she'd be an aunt. She loved babies.

I whisper to her at night, when I can't sleep:

_I'm going to have a baby, Prim. If it's a boy, I'll name it after Peeta's father. And if it's a girl, I'll name it after you._

I remember you, thin legs flashing to keep up with me as we ran around in the meadow.

I remember you and I, jumping into the lake, t-shirts and shorts and all.

You were 12 when I was taken to the Capitol. For months I told myself you were all right. I didn't want to think of a world without you in it.

You would have been a beautiful woman. Much more beautiful than me.

Your eyes held hope, light, strength.

Your favorite color was pink.

You had a crush on Rory Hawthorne.

You loved sitting on our father's shoulders, on his days off from the mine.

You clung to me, nights after our father disappeared. Your first birthday after his disappearance, how you cried.

I remember thinking: I should have taught you how to hunt.

You haunt me, Prim. I have nothing of yours to hold on to. Not even a ribbon.

Peeta went with me to look at the place where our house used to be. Together, Peeta and I sifted through the wreckage.  It feels like a place of ghosts. No matter how short we are of housing in the Seam, no one builds over the place where our house used to be.

That night, something broke in me. Maybe that's why Peeta insisted on taking me to my first Harvest Festival. You would have loved it. The people, the music, the dancing.

You would have loved having Peeta as a big brother. You and him, with your blonde hair and blue eyes, could pass for brother and sister. You were the beauty in the family. I wanted to see you married, with all the babies you could want.

When I was imprisoned in the Capitol, I saw you in my cell: your face was drawn and pale, you never spoke. I wonder, now, if you were trying to comfort me. They say the spirits of the dead do come to visit. Were you dead already then? No, I didn't want to think it.

But the you that sat in my cell, night after night, kept me warm, let me hope.

Someday, Peeta says, he will paint a portrait of you. How would I describe you? You never met. I stopped going to school after father died, and you were several years younger than Peeta. But, little by little, he draws my memories of you. He even draws me and you together, holding hands.

In one of his paintings, Prim's face and shoulders are enclosed by the outline of a heart. The heart is a deep red. Just above the heart are the words I LOVE YOU. My chest hurts every time I look at it.

Next, he says he'll do a portrait of our mother. I still struggle with the ghosts. Now, though, I don't have to struggle alone.

 


	33. THE MOUNTAIN SONG

"Daddy," Daisy whispers, the next time she comes over.

Peeta looks up. His daughter points at Katniss's stomach. Her eyes ask wordlessly: When?

"Hey, hey," Peeta says, wrapping his arms around his daughter. "I love you."

"When?" Daisy says aloud.

Katniss comes up. "Six months," she says.

"Oh," Daisy says. Her brows furrow. "Can you feel it yet?"

"No," Katniss says.

"Let me -- touch?" Daisy says to Katniss.

Katniss takes Daisy's right hand and places it over the swell of her stomach, just under her ribs. Daisy's face goes perfectly still. After several moments, Katniss tilts Daisy's face up. "Let's go to the meadow," she says to Daisy. "And I'll weave you a crown of flowers. And you can wear it all day long."

*     *     *     *

Peeta has Katniss's feet in his lap. He's rubbing them tenderly. Katniss sighs.

"My feet are ugly," she says.

"Shh," Peeta says. He slowly caresses the toes, one by one.

"I've hunted most of my life. I don't have girly feet."

"And I love them," Peeta says, looking up and cradling both feet in his hands.

"Your mother will have a fit when she finds out. And she'd be right, you know. I don't deserve you."

"Really? You want to talk about my mother now?"

"No."

"Katniss, could you -- " he stops.

"What?" Katniss says.

"Could you sing for me?"

Katniss nods. She starts to sing: _For some, a mountain . . . ._

Peeta closes his eyes. Katniss's voice pierces him like a knife.

A woman walks for days and days, hearing nothing but the wind in the trees, and occasionally the distant howling of wolves. She decides to fight her loneliness by singing. In the fall, when the leaves start dropping from the trees, it seems as though the sound of the wolves is closer.

Katniss breaks off the song and looks at Peeta.

"What do you call that song?" Peeta asks. "I've never heard it before."

"I wrote it," Katniss says, dropping her eyes. "A long time ago."

"Your voice -- every time I hear it, it weaves a spell." Peeta shivers and pulls Katniss close. "I love you," he murmurs against her hair.

After a few beats, Katniss says, "It's a sad song. My world used to be very small."

"Will you teach our child to sing?"

"Sae says it's going to be a girl. I don't want to teach her such sad songs."

"They won't be sad," Peeta says, "if you don't make them so. Can you sing me another?"

This time, Katniss sings a song about a woman whose arms turn into birch bark. When her lover comes to look for her, he finds the woman's torn nightgown on the forest floor. He begins to weep. Then he hears the woman's voice telling him not to worry, she is safe. The man presses his mouth against the trunk of the birch.

Peeta finds himself wondering about the man, who in the song presses his tongue delicately against birch bark. "Who is he?" he asks Katniss.

"I don't know," Katniss says.

"Oh," Peeta says. "I hoped you were thinking of me."

And now he tilts her head back and kisses her deeply, thankful of her warmth and her skin and the swell of her belly as she lies curved into his side.

 

 

 

 


	34. WOODEN ANIMALS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Mellark speaks up for Peeta.
> 
> Drama ensues.

Daisy looks at the miniature wooden animals Katniss has carved for her. There are a pair of deer, a half dozen birds with outstretched wings. The wood smells like the cabin in the woods where her father lives now. When she's at school, she can't wait to go home and greet her little animals again.

*     *     *     *

"I don't think you're doing right by Peeta. Nor by your grand-daughter or grandson either," Mr. Mellark says.

His wife turns to him with an exasperated expression. "What are you talking about?"

"Listening to that woman. Rose. Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth."

"Rose? This is your _daughter-in-law_ you're speaking about!"

"She's completely turned you against your own son."

"Peeta, may I remind you, has two children with Rose. And he left them."

"He didn't leave the children. He left ROSE."

"He left them!" Mrs. Mellark shrieks. "You foolish man!"

"Look, I know this is not how you see things, but -- Peeta married her out of -- duty, guilt, I don't know. It wasn't love."

"And how do you know? What makes you so sure it wasn't love?"

"He told me. On his wedding day. He was so conflicted. I -- I was so sad. Look, Peeta's got a lot to deal with right now. And every day, you just make it worse. Rose comes and you let her go in the back, where Peeta is working, trying and trying . . .  I don't like it. This has got to stop."

"Looks like Peeta's not the only one the Seam Slut has bewitched."

"What is wrong with you? Why do you hate Katniss so much?"

"Because she's Seam and she's a slut and she stole our good name from us."

"She stole our good name, how?"

"Oh!" Mrs. Mellark sneers. "You are so stupid."

"Sometimes I think all you want is for Peeta to be as miserable as you are. As _we_ are. You can't stand that he's with the woman he loves."

"No! You're lying! You're lying!" Mrs. Mellark shrieks. "Peeta could never love that -- _that person_."

"And why not? Why the hell not?" Her husband shouts. His wife sinks to the floor, ashen-faced. "You make me sick," her husband says, walking out of their bedroom.

"Bannock!" Mrs. Mellark shrieks. "Come back here!"

She pulls herself up and screams, "You coward! That's what you are! Turning your back on your own wife! You and your son -- two peas in a pod. Both of you, cowards!"

Suddenly, her husband appears back in the doorway. "Peeta's not a coward. He's the bravest man I know. He just didn't want to keep pretending he was a different person. He got sick of it."

 

 

 


	35. TIME MAY CHANGE ME, BUT I WON'T CHANGE TIME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Your daughter is a smart little girl, Peeta," his father says. "Wonder where she gets it from? I think she's decided to let you deal with her mother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peeta's turn to dream -- and it's a crazy one.
> 
> If fear is contagious, perhaps courage is, as well? At least, that's what I was trying to get across in Peeta's dream of Katniss. 
> 
> Title of this chapter's from a David Bowie song, "Changes."

Peeta rests his head on the back of the chair his father's left in the bakery. God, he's tired. He closes his eyes. His head's covered in sweat.

He looks at the outside through the open back door. It's full dark. With a groan, he pulls himself up from the chair, making ready for the trek home.

"Peeta!" he hears his father call.

Peeta opens his eyes.

"You weren't going to leave without saying good-bye!" his father chides him.

Before Peeta can answer, his father comes forward and thrusts a small paper bag into his arms. "For Katniss. Her favorite."

Peeta smiles. He reaches for the bag. "Thanks, Dad," he murmurs.

"How is she?" his father asks.

Peeta hesitates. He wishes he could tell him. Why does it feel like something he should keep?

"I know," his father says.

Peeta stares blankly at him.

"Daisy told me."

Peeta nods. Of course. "And Rose -- ?"

"No."

Peeta's eyebrows lift.

"Your daughter is a very smart little girl, Peeta," his father says. "Wonder where she gets it from? I think she's decided to let _you_ deal with her mother. She's happy, though. Excited. So am I. And -- Peeta?"

"Yes, dad?"

"I had a talk with your mother. Rose won't be going into the back while you're working here, not unless you invite her to. You and Rose will hold all your discussions out here, in the front, and if you need privacy, we'll put the CLOSED sign on the door. I think it's better that way. Since, after all -- " Peeta's father shrugs and gives him a sheepish smile. "I'm thinking of the children."

Peeta hugs his father. "Thank you," he murmurs.

"I'm on your side, Peeta. Always," his father says. "Things won't always be like this. I won't always be here. Might as well make the most of it."

Instead of letting go, Peeta hugs him tighter. Eventually, Peeta's father pulls back and pats Peeta on the shoulder. "Tell Katniss not to be a stranger. After all, she's family now. Bring her with you sometime."

"I know. I should. She's been wanting to, but I worried it would be too stressful. Especially in her condition."

"Bring her," his father said, firmly. "She has nothing to be afraid of. I've waited too long, Peeta, but let me tell you: your mother. She's not just your problem. It's _our family's_ problem.

He watches as Peeta heads out the back door. He gives a rueful shake of his head and begins to lock up. His wife won't like what he's just done. But, after all, the Mellark name has been over the bakery for far longer than even his marriage. And Peeta's the only one of his sons who's inherited the talent for baking. It'll be Peeta's work that keeps the tradition alive, long after he, Bannock Mellark, is gone. And just thinking about that makes Peeta's father very happy.

*     *     *     *

Peeta dreams he's on the edge of the forest and can go no further.

He lifts his arms to the sky, looks up in prayer (though he really doesn't believe in God or anything). He sees her standing, balancing, on the branch of a tall tree. The wind blows tendrils of hair loose from her braid.

He is suddenly overwhelmed with worry and fear for her. The breeze is an enemy. He doesn't know why this is so, but he's certain of it.

Get away, Katniss! he screams.

But she doesn't seem to hear him. He struggles forward but feels as if his limbs are encased in the thickest mud.

Suddenly he sees Katniss raise an arm and flick her wrist -- delicately, as if painting in the air with her fingers.

Flowers shoot from her palms. As Peeta stares, dumfounded, more and more flowers bloom from her hands. So many, in all colors of the rainbow.

Katniss snaps her fingers and the flowers disappear, replaced this time by flames.

She lifts her palms, both of them encased in tongues of flame.

The expression on her face is ecstatic. Peeta can only stare, transfixed.

Peeta's eyes snap open. Katniss is curled against him, her legs tangled with his. His hands have curved instinctively around her belly. Her eyes flutter in sleep, he can feel the whispering of her lashes against his arm, the one he's curled protectively around her. The corners of her mouth twitch. But he knows it's not a nightmare. She makes pleased, throaty sounds.

"Oh, Katniss," he murmurs, burying his nose in her hair.


	36. FIRST FAMILY DINNER

Katniss lies in bed, cocooned in Peeta's arms. She feels safe; she never wants to be anywhere else. It's still dark, but pretty soon Peeta will stir and get up and head to town.

She's six months along now. She has yet to make it anywhere in town except for The Hob. But this coming Saturday, Peeta is taking her to town for a very important occasion: his mother's birthday.

Every year, all the Mellarks, even those who've moved out-of-district, like Peeta's two older brothers, and his cousins, and important people like Mayor Undersee, and the school principal, and the director of the hospital, and other merchant families, are invited. It's the one time of year when proud smiles replace frowns on Mrs. Mellark's face.

Only this year, Peeta is bringing Katniss.

He'd insisted. Wouldn't take no for an answer.

"I hate your mother," Katniss whispers to Peeta, late one night.

"I do, too," Peeta says. "I still go every year. Please, we have to be together at the dinner. It's important."

"Why?" Katniss says, running her hands protectively over her belly.

"For me? Please?"

"Why?" Katniss says again.

Peeta cups her chin and makes her look at him. "Because you're family," he says.

"But -- " Katniss begins, then stops and bites her lip.

"You _are_. Whether she likes it or not."

"Daisy, she'll be so happy to see you."

The mention of his daughter makes Katniss _almost_ relent. Peeta knows, he shouldn't be using Daisy this way. He thinks he might have learnt a thing or two about manipulation from his mother, though he'd never admit it.

"But -- " Katniss is about to say 'Rose' but now that she's having Peeta's child, she really hates saying that word and all the bad feelings associated with saying it.

Katniss imagines not going, leaving Peeta on his own to deal with Rose and his mother. The wounding remarks. But is this really something she wants to take on? Only three months more and Katniss will be a mother. Does she really have the energy to deal with this -- other stuff?

"If I agree, just this once, will you promise to try really hard and make Daisy sleep over? I want her to. You want her to. But you've got to push harder if it's ever going to happen."

Peeta strokes her hair gently. "All right," he says finally. "If you -- "

"I'll do it," Katniss says suddenly. She swallows. She's never before backed down from a fight. The only time was when -- when -- PEETA. When she let him go. In the Capitol.

By now, Katniss is sure, Rose knows about the coming child.

"Peeta," Katniss whispers. "When you married Rose, did you -- did you love her?"

Peeta hesitates for only the tiniest moment. "No," he says.

"Then why? Why did you?"

"Because I thought it was my duty. We'd been together a long time. I couldn't stand the thought of breaking her heart."

"But you broke mine," Katniss says, then looks away.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Peeta says.

Katniss wonders if Rose could tell. Then she thinks, probably not. Peeta can be really good at hiding his true feelings.

*     *    *     *

Katniss and Peeta are holding hands. They're standing outside his childhood home. It's a two-story, only a short walk from the bakery.

They've been standing there almost twenty minutes. Katniss had a sudden onset of nerves and, as Peeta was leading her through the front gate, she suddenly balked and stopped walking.

Now she looks up at the house. She thinks she saw a curtain in the upper story twitch.

Peeta grips her hand tightly. "I'm sorry," he says. "We can go home."

Now it's Katniss's turn to say no. She grabs his arm tightly. "It's just -- it's just. I needed a few minutes. I'm okay now."

The front door opens with a bang and Daisy comes running out. For the first time in days, Katniss smiles.

Not far behind Daisy comes another familiar face: Peeta's father.

Katniss lets out a long, shaky breath. "I think I'm going to be okay," she tells Peeta, giving his arm a squeeze.

"Trust me," Peeta murmurs. "You'll be okay."


	37. THAT NIGHT

"Katniss!" Daisy yells. "You came! You came!"

She's barreling straight for Katniss but Peeta stops her just in time and picks her up, squealing.

"Daddy!" the little girl laughs.

Peeta kisses her cheek with a loud smack.

She giggles and pretend-hits him. "Put me down, Dad! I want to take Katniss inside!"

"Only if you promise to be careful. Don't run into her, she's got a baby in there."

Daisy's face falls. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I promise. Put me down."

Peeta sets her on her feet. Daisy stares up at Katniss and says, "I'm sorry, Katniss."

"It's fine," Katniss says, squeezing Daisy's hand. She links hands with Daisy and they all walk towards the front door. Katniss has to take a deep breath when she sees who's standing in the doorway: Rose is wearing a flowery dress that shows off her slender figure. Her golden hair is piled regally on top of her head. Her face is very pale. In contrast, her lips are a bright, almost unnatural, red. With her arms crossed, she stares at Katniss, up and down.

Suddenly, Katniss feels Peeta's large hand on her left shoulder. Katniss turns her head to look at Peeta. His blue eyes are blazing with an intense fire. Katniss feels her knees weaken. How does he do that to her? Before she knew him, she never feared anything, whether it was man, woman, animal, Snow himself. In Peeta's presence, though, she feels weak, completely at his mercy.

 _Because I love him_ , Katniss thinks.

"I know," Peeta says, and Katniss startles. When her eyes wander back to the front door, Rose has disappeared. In her place is Peeta's grim, scowling mother.

Katniss trembles. Daisy's hand tightens. She takes a deep breath.

Peeta's father has slipped out to stand next to them. "Katniss," he says. "I'm so glad you came."

*     *     *     *

The dinner's over. That night, Katniss and Peeta walk home through the meadow, hands interlinked, looking up at the stars.

"That wasn't too bad," Katniss says to Peeta. She smiles.

He doesn't reply, seems lost in thought. Then, without warning, he pulls on Katniss's hand to make her stop. When she looks up at him, he presses his mouth to hers. There's so much heat in his lips, Katniss feels like she's on fire. She winds her arms around his neck. She wants to press as close as she can, but of course, her belly gets in the way. She stands on tiptoes, she doesn't want Peeta to stop, she wants to drink him down, to thank him for the way he brought the sky into her life.

He finally pulls back. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"Why sorry?" Katniss says. "I'll never be able to get enough of you, Peeta Mellark."

Her legs feel funny and boneless now. She wonders what will happen when they get back to the cabin. Will they continue?

"Can you walk? Should I carry you?" Peeta asks.

"Carry me?" Katniss is aghast. Can he really? All the way to the cabin?

He lifts her before she can protest. She can suddenly feel something different about him: he's in a hurry.

She smiles to herself.

"Peeta, not too fast, you might stumble," she murmurs.

"I won't," he says, breathing heavily. "Moon's out, I can see the path."


End file.
